10DOM: Clarity through a Cinnamon Mist

in an empty mall parking lot,
as many are these days,
a crumpled piece of paper crawls
between the yellow lines
aided only by the wind at its back,
kept warm by the orange~pink sunset
fading beneath the mountains
in the distance.

slowly it searches until it finds
the scuffed toe of my shoe,
just as it is about to move
into the car and speed away
to something of other that
needs to be done.

poke.

poke.

poking to get my attention
i gently lift it, feeling
the weight of its course
brittle skin unfold
revealing someone’s lost poem
balled up
thrown out
flushed away
discarded
forgotten

because it
hurt too much
embarrassed them
became pointless
felt clumsy

i want to tell them
i found it here,
this complex verse
that chokes so many
in blue pen, on paper
weathered cinnamon,
it simply reads…
i love you.

smiling, I lower
it to the ground,
watching it wander away,
searching again
for whom it is intended.

For more takes on the theme, go here.