deepundergroundpoetry.com
Over My Shoulder
I always see her backpack first,
Every morning as I walk to my locker.
She is always at her own,
And always looking away.
The light shines beautifully
Upon her hair.
If I am lucky,
She will turn
And I will catch a glimpse
Of that beautiful face
And those beautiful eyes
Focused somewhere else.
Our gazes meet.
“Hello!”
“Hi!”
And then her eyes return
To the same place.
Someplace over my shoulder.
Every morning as I walk to my locker.
She is always at her own,
And always looking away.
The light shines beautifully
Upon her hair.
If I am lucky,
She will turn
And I will catch a glimpse
Of that beautiful face
And those beautiful eyes
Focused somewhere else.
Our gazes meet.
“Hello!”
“Hi!”
And then her eyes return
To the same place.
Someplace over my shoulder.
Published 29th Mar 2017
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29th Mar 2017 9:46am
