Passerby

the puddles on the road
dry up
as soon as the rain stops
and the sun shines
leaving no mark
no trace of shoe prints
and drenched socks

will my reflection be remembered
once the mudded tracks clear out?

maybe not
but I didn’t get lost;
I passed by.

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


This is the #potd poem of the day.

I would love to write a poem for you. See how.

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