Day 16 – The man from Trickum Street

The man from Trickum street
has never met a stranger.
Looks into their eyes, and the soul is revealed.
His eyes are dark, a mysterious brown,
his smile is easy, his hands warm.

The man from Trickum street
has never known a hardship,
for every challenge is a blessing,
every tragedy an opportunity,
every wound another chance to heal.

The man from Trickum street,
keeps time with a borrowed clock,
loaned by his grandfather when the old man died.
he flows with the chimes;
every half-turn a new journey in mind.

The man from Trickum street.
He knows the heart at a glance,
can only see the bright side of the glass,
lives contentedly on borrowed time,
and believes not in endings, but only beginnings.


So I think this one could use some work, especially the end, but it was fun to write, and decent enough that I could post it. I know I posted twice within a few minutes (If I miss a day I usually try to put two poems in one post), but those poems really needed to be posted separately. I don’t think my Woman of Color would have tolerated a man in her space.


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