I Will Not Witness

I’m confronted by your approach.
Thick. Sinuous. Sinister.
It may take years, now it’s arrived.

It’s my custom to move on.
I will not witness your arrival.

What I’m Reading:

Already, in the capital, the president-elect had ordered a statue and a fountain, was drawing up plans for his new home. While down below, in the rubble, people were scrabbling as they had always done.

— Karen Jennings / An Island