Save the Unknown

Poetry by Mick Petchprom

In the landscape 
of 4 pm, soft orange voices 
piled sideways to give me 
a chance to take 
my tears to-go. The water cups 
could be found 
in my shoes. He swung the refrigerator 
door into next year. Kneeling wasn’t 
mentioned but it was 
a promise, a way to say 
I feel you, even when I can’t 
see you. It was a way into 
the spark of a blue hole, where hair 
leaps from the skin and 
loses its twinkle.

Published 29th September, 2023.

Mick Petchprom delivers food and works in a library. Originally from southern California, Mick and his family now live in northern California.

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