Saturday, February 16, 2013

i can't hear the cars passing by

a cold wind blows from a navy sky,
i face it, gloved hands in my pockets
swaying along with hanging traffic lights
the reality cut off by sixties memories
soft recordings telling me how disconnected
heres and nows
whys and hows
break vows and build eternal truths
but only for a moment
By -

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

deciduous trees' leaves

deciduous trees' leaves are  tiny palms begging sunlight from the sky before they wither and die as the tree curls up to hibernate for t...

  • high-coup
    poets: join forces arm yourselves, and then light up this is a high-coup
  • to my canadian poetry peeps
    dear canada, you are safe your indigenous are almost forgotten your white guilt sheds crocodile tears a fresh wave of immigrant colonizers c...
  • short-fuse at the ball
    Click on the post title if you don't see the content