Today is
this whole other day,
complicated and misguided
among all these strangers
who just want to be outside.

There’s rest in the air
and the park’s
still filled with snow,
its beaten trails abandoned
and outlined
with muddy footprints.

It’s all changing,
splitting down the middle
too quickly
for us to notice
and it’s kind of funny
how the little things either
get to matter the most,
or the least.


About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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