It was raining, and I was walking.
Away from you or towards you, I cannot remember.
It has only been a year, barely a year, and I find
That I have forgotten a lot of things about you.
The curve of your lips, the texture of your hair.
Too quickly, I find myself forgetting the lines of your face,
And the dip of muscles on your back. But that day,
I was walking away from you or towards you,
I cannot quite remember. Only that it was raining
And between steps, I knew that everything
Was changing. Somewhere, a waterfall breaks.
Somewhere, a river reaches the ocean.
* “Mid-stride” is part of the author’s collection of poems, Our Feet on the Word WELCOME, which won First Place in the last Ustetika Annual Awards for Literature. – Ed.
