Indicators
I pass the seconds
scanning every letter
that you arrange with
such inevitability—such
precise methodical order.
I watch them dissipate
towards the hollow
spaces that gather light
of foot between us.
It’s as if you can’t bear
the thought of them existing
only for and of themselves,
as I brace myself
for the oncoming season;
for your own too familiar
brand of tiresome weather.
©️Orion Foote, 2022
Visions of Orion Poetry 