In the Diner

Outside rain pours onto a city dissolved into night.

Inside, the diner is garish with comforting colours; I smell coffee, fried food and damp clothes. I gather my things.

At this despairing hour, there is music, but little chatter. I should go, taking and leaving loneliness.

I should go, returning to my world; rejecting yours.

You catch my hand.

I should go. I should not look into your eyes. But I do. Through my tears, I see your tears. I am lost. Lost in love for you. Lost mapless at a crossroads.

Your hand holds mine.

I do not leave.

diner

Words and photograph copyright 2017 by Paula Harmon. All rights belong to the author and material may not be copied without the author’s express permission

From a prompt “Lost” on Thin Spiral Notebook – check out the other reactions

In Shifting Sands

In the valley of shifting sand dunes
I search.
Lost, I stare around me.
Disabled, terrified to move
Should I turn? And if so
This way or that?
Look up or down?
Fearful, confused
My whole self is lost
My soul is sinking fast
My life is already half buried.
The sand shifts under me
Forwards or backwards?
I cannot decide.
The sun blazes and my tears
Scald themselves dry;
My thoughts tumble
and spin in tumult.
What can I do?
What will become of me?
I am lost.
Someone please
Someone tell me
Where did I drop my phone?

sand queryCopyright 2016 by Paula Harmon. All rights belong to the author and material may not be copied without the author’s express permission

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