Quitter | Kamal Tomlin

A stranger in this town

stretched taut and thin to cut—

through fog and glassy eyes

which blind him to sunrise.

He’s quit his vices.

Drops of moksha stain yellowed

lips

head hung–––

over stars

dizzy and blurry.

The clearest waters, he knows

are easiest to trip over.

And six sets of footsteps

in shallow shores

are the hardest ones to take.