Walking Slow
by Nicole Lowman
While walking with him,
leaves withering
grass wilting with dew,
while wind whips
temperature lowers,
we grasp hands.
His swallows mine as he
pulls me closer to his side,
shading us from gusts
and drops
Nicole’s poetry has appeared in Zygote in My Coffee, when it rains from the ground up and Fragments. She loves to cook and makes a mean chili.
