Moving on

She knots two garbage bags containing clothes and letters and puts them on the road curb.  

Putting on her helmet, she revs the bike's engine.    Black birds skitter above street wires.  
Soon, the wind is whipping static from her hair.    

Sky is dusky grey but all she sees is night, awakening sleek as a panther.



~0~0~0~


Shoe box is full of letters
frail as ancient tree
with sleeping flowers

I pluck to read one
remembering why I kept it
But the words fold into
themselves

barely moving 
an empty boat
shadowed by lake pines

Throwing the box away
I watch by window

As wind spits its seeds
and whitens the sky- 

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Flash 55 Plus - 55 Words in fiction and poem
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~

Photo credit:  Tumblr