the way cigarette smoke curls like a snake and leaves ash sheded skin
the jealous echo you steal from young couples laughing past your bedroom window in the evening
to walk down the side of a hill as twilight falls soft and the geese cry past the amber moon
the little boy in a stroller who makes cutting gestures with his hands as i look away because his mother nods yes
how guilt always enters the hushed room laughing just a little too loudly and takes more than his fair share of horderves
the way the words of the powerful are so very weak
how the vine of lost and found constricts arotic branches
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Author:
Jon Nakapalau (
Offline) - Published: May 29th, 2021 17:00
- Comment from author about the poem: Random thoughts.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 35
Offline)
Comments2
Wonderful thoughts put into words Jon.
Andy
Thank you Andy.
Randomly interesting... your sketchbook is intriguing, your phrases are curious enough to be unsettling in a wonderful way. Very evocative. Glad I dropped in on it.
Thanks so much.
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