The Last Mile
The Last Mile
Lauren Newton
Winter 2019
The sprint never slows down nowadays.
My growth has closed all around, nowadays.
I sit in dull rooms with a mind that’s hazed.
Not many games on playgrounds, nowadays.
Trees laugh tough until breath turns to cough.
Golden leaves turn brown, nowadays.
Your face is the same, but your voice has changed.
Our verbs rot into nouns, nowadays.
The mirror stretches and folds up and down.
My reflection looks like a clown, nowadays.
Empty churches bleed red with a soundless sound.
God, they beg, are you around nowadays?
The light is now dimmer, but it all looks the same;
children dance in hand-me downs, nowadays.
Eternity’s pulsing while tomorrow lies blank.
Promise must breathe in new towns, nowadays.
