compass

a couple waits at the abandoned bus stop

the man stands with his hands in his pockets
looking towards the sunrise behind
the apartment building

the woman sits with her hands clasped
between her legs
watching the rare car and breeze pass by

the distance between them
is a curtain of the unsaid

his      too comfortable conversations
with the occasional coworker

her      with the young teacher
having been left to deal alone
with the children’s schooling

all the moments where “no”
kept them steady
gather dust in the cluttered rooms
of memory

the man’s left hand comes out of his pocket
opens to receive her right hand
and they walk true north

German Dario (he/him) resides in Tempe, Arizona with his wife, two sons, three dogs, a guinea pig, many plants, and sometimes a fish. Recently published work in Novus Literary Arts Journal, Opossum, Gargoyle Magazine, Gyroscope Review, and San Pedro River Review. His poem “sanctuary” was short listed in 2021 for the Five South Poetry Prize.