Wait For Me
I was. I was.
Filled a moat
with roses
culled blue skies
dug a hole
for some lost
time.
Now travel thorn
by thorn down
dizzy periphery
I’ve never been
to the world
sidelong. It seems
from gleaned stars
I’m trying.
Caroline Conway formerly edited RealPoetik. Her poems have appeared in Ploughshares, NYQ, LIT and elsewhere. She lives in NYC.
