RSS Feed

In The Alley

Surprised again
again
by all the faces we wear.
So many times you turn a corner
into a dark alley
cobblestones wet with rain
and abandon yourself there, again.
Alone and wailing, you throw your
complaints once more against the
narrow brick walls—though long ago
the walls grew hardened to your problems.
But then, here you come again,
walking up the street whistling,
hands in your pockets,
able to hear your self and
ready to stroll into that alley
lift your self
up, wrap it in
your own warm coat
and tell it a funny story
just to make your self laugh.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

typewriter rodeo

custom poems on vintage typewriters

A Poet in Time

One Poet's Writing Practice

Shades of Gray - Denison TX

Photographer of Life in North TX & points beyond

Red Wolf Poems

Prompting new poems for Red Wolf Journal

Writing the Day

A Poetry Practice

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment

leaf and twig

where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry

%d bloggers like this: