Maybe

is love found on the blue

tree that grows in the sky.
And it’ll smash you in the head
as you’re sitting under,

minding your own business.
Maybe

maybe is love tripped over

when you’re only thinking of
what to wear tomorrow.
Maybe is love a dirty flyer

picked up on the sidewalk…
… Maybe.

Maybe, as rain, will it fall

cold sometime around midnight.
Drenched to the

bone finally…
Maybe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Photo: Jean-Michel HATTON