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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2216226
I guess that the dim reflection in the upper right window speaks to me more than the rest
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longing for white mountains reflected in closed-blind windows
rancid sulfur of red-bricked industry juxtaposed with the tidy white of suburban trim
sliding fingers across sliver-stabbing roughness of plywood in spore-scented, moldy doorways
can still hear black-fly hovering buzz of hollow neon light fixtures
which blazed once with glowing pink noble gasses, reflected in sexy shades
groovy, crooked sign from the maize seventies, Led Zeppelin dancing inside waxy ear of painter
cargo doors frozen on rusty rails, no more white bread accepted
thankfully saved from decayed urban ugliness
escape to the hills
to freedom

10 lines of free verse
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