As I ready to go

I wear a color for her

hoping to see her

Leave old ways behind


Ready to meet the bus

Prepare to meet it

Rush to meet it

It’s really a train


I squeeze through an opening

in the chain link fence

My backpack is stuffed

yet weightless


Look up

to the concave deep blue

The stars aligned true

The cross is coming


I can feel it

trembling the dirt

Grass whipping in wind

I rush to meet it


“The cross is coming!”

a little girl yells

“No it isn’t!”

a little boy doubts


But I can feel it

as I turn to my right

anxious for its arrival

anxious for its light


I hear it with my being

The cross is coming

Almost within sight

My excitement is peaked


5 thoughts on “Crossover

      1. After reading The Cabin, I think you should definitely take a shot at writing poems. You have an original way of describing common things that would work well in poetry. If you’d like some help, feel free to send me an email:

        I also write fiction, by the way.

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