Pin It

A Poem: Rough Morning 

I do not have to be happy.

I do not have to skip on tippy toes

for all eight blocks to the subway, whistling.

I only have to get from point A to point B

with eyes pried open,

feeling cracked cement rise up to meet my boot heel,

keeping vigilant for random signs of life—

preferably mine.

Speaking of...

  • A poem by Michele Karas.


Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

Readers also liked…

Hudson Valley Events

submit event

Latest in Poetry

Hudson Valley Tweets