Sunday, May 22, 2005

Standing like a rock set aside a river,
Faces flow past in angry harmony,
Blinking towards the ground in silent protest of the day’s persistent ending.
I stand close as families scatter listlessly like unbending watercolor insects across a shadowed landscape,
Ink streaking forgottenly from rhythmic feet.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I just finished a novel I thought you might like; the 1960's rewritten edition of "Bread and Wine" by Ignazio Silone.

the Last of my Kind said...

And still; you are not alone.