Away
Below earth,
dark and trod
I hear them walk.
Stepping softly,
it's turned into a busy day,
and I recall it all,
far away.
Turnstile,
back again.
Half-eaten snack,
tossed away -
need another word for hunger.
Good taste was never
really me.
Midnight rain,
haphazard
slipshod shoes,
fading prints.
The light was always brightest here,
it's okay it
went away.