I was unfolding. I needed nothing.
I left you there on the roadside with nothing.
I was expansive, no longer drowning.
I left you there on the roadside with nothing.
Under the water’s surface, then breaking,
I left you there on the roadside with nothing.
Filling my lungs until I was shaking,
I left you there on the roadside with nothing.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 26, Issue 1.
Autumn Newman is a disabled poet living in California. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and her poems have appeared most recently in The Orchards Poetry Journal, Able Muse, Cider Press Review: Best Of, and more are forthcoming in Pratik: A Magazine of Contemporary Writing and Rise Up Review.
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