After 9. By Alyssa Trivett

I stood on the porch
and talked to him.
Streetlight clicks on
post thunderstorm and words
start to knock.
I wish I had a ship in a bottle.
I'd take the ship out and
shove the memories of
this last hour
in there, instead,
if they let me....
Or some lost words or
rampant thoughts...
but this young writer
will leave the jumbled stanzas
on the sidelines, for now,
only to finish laundry;
my conundrum
for this evening.

Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she chirps down coffee while scrawling lines. Her work has appeared in many places, but most recently at Ex Ex Lit, and Duane's PoeTree site.