poetry by j matthew waters

the worlds that we live [in]

now that we are nearing the end
can we say it could be another way

at what moment can you point to
saying right there
that specific place in time
progressing toward the committed path
only to back off
at the eleventh hour

country boy in the big city
big city girl lost in green acres
hopping from one continent to the next
eyes set on orbiting like a satellite

there’s no debate
it’s all left to conjecture
but it’s the world we live in
and the worlds
that we don’t

february two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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