Gone Poem by Kaitlin Schmidt

It's only natural to travel at ninety miles an hour
but with the sound of
"she died, " on the other line
the light turned off.
Blond and blue spots bounced in the air
the font of those words burned-
she forgot me

All the voices that pass by hang onto me
I try to brush them off
only to catch what they said,
"I'm so sorry"
is a rotten petal that falls
without grace
and the orange rays are cold
like snow on the pavement

I'm not sure if I should wonder
or wander or
make the bed today or
wait until tomorrow
maybe I will reread the last page
so I don't have to set the table
I could count the number of people
that walk by
and watch until they fade
because the air will remain gray
and the memories will always trickle