Contingent Poem by William Deutscher

William Deutscher

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Contingent

Way to go
up from here.
Living fast,
bleeding fear.

Nothing set,
state of flux.
Fragmented
bits of luck.

Park the car
and walk.
Sunday gloom,
idle talk.

Gray way
October blows,
windy
as you know.

In the news
nothing good.
Close the door,
if you would.

William Deutscher

Saturday, February 17, 2024

poem poems october sunday

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Poems By William Deutscher

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William Deutscher

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7/27/2025 8:22:58 PM # 1.0.0