Poetry About Lines

In pencil marks crossing a blank page, lines finds a visible shape. Laundry stretched between two roofs carries what ordinary speech leaves unfinished. Between wrinkles deepening around a smile and railway tracks meeting the horizon, the heart learns to listen. A line can divide, connect, measure, or lead us home, though the day rarely says so aloud. By night, one sentence ending before the truth becomes a promise rather than an ending.

Laundry stretched between two roofs enters the poem first. Lines follows, neither symbol nor explanation, but weather. Railway tracks meeting the horizon keeps the difficult measure. We stand near pencil marks crossing a blank page and let certainty loosen. A line can divide, connect, measure, or lead us home. One sentence ending before the truth remains after the room grows quiet.

Someone remembers wrinkles deepening around a smile. Someone else names pencil marks crossing a blank page and means an entire life. Lines moves between them with patient hands. Laundry stretched between two roofs refuses to become only background. A line can divide, connect, measure, or lead us home. At last, one sentence ending before the truth gives the silence somewhere to rest.