Zoe Casselman/The Hofstra Chronicle
A slice of silence
A momentary lapse
From reality
The world,
Right now,
Is no longer so big.
For this moment,
I am alone
On this bench,
And the world
Is no larger
Than that.
As I move,
The world
Becomes the pavement
Beneath my feet,
Slap
Slap
Slap
Of wet shoes
On wet concrete,
The world
Is no more
Than the makeup
Smudged on my cheeks,
Or the leaves blowing gently
Above my head.
The world is small.
The world is me.
For now,
That’s okay.
