Hung

I let the moment hang between us, Like the last line of a book, Like the settling cloud of disrupted country road dirt, Like waiting for a bubble to burst, Like when someone has walked passed - The pause we take before we turn, It hung there on a laundry line, A white shirt flapping, Evaporating, Slowly waving, Blowing a kiss goodbye, The line creaked, Such a dry cry.

 

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