rust, painted rain.
river rust; finding its way
down countless shades-
of concrete
uneven, green spaces
left by man; for the wind and sun
where autumn leaves- and
dove feathers dance on their own
pedestrian cold, infatuated.
daydream; kept warm in wool scarves
outside where no ceiling-
allow them to hide
fear of change, leaves none
alone; they come and go
winter wind- extending roots
from below
rust, painted rain.
river rust; finding our way
down countless shades-
of concrete
I did not understand one word you said and i have absolutely no idea what your poem means but i read it beautifully, the flow is amazing, so good job on that.
ReplyDelete