Polaroid Line

Poetry

Maybe I’ve already burned our pictures once I recognized I’m a clothesline

Everything we do is out to dry

Seen by everyone as I die

Flapping at the slightest breeze

No resistance, look at us

All our neighbors see

I’m hanging by wooden old clothespins until you come

Faded polaroid photo boy

Prone to emotion.

Published by Edmond

Edmond is an INFJ layman writer, creating freestyle poetry as an outlet for his emotions for over thirty years. He can be reached at: Carolinawriter@protonmail.com

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