Six of Swords

by Robert Beveridge

Person walking down a road with a suitcase

how the handle of the cheap plastic
suitcase feels against the palm
of your hand and how the soles
of your cheap Keds feel when you
step off the stoop and hit the road

and you swear you won’t come back
but you know somewhere down
there you will end up back in bed
awakened by the smell of eggs

Category: Featured, Poetry