There is a road that ends with out
traffic signals
There is a door with all its
metallic colors peeling
There is a car abandoned
in the portico of a house
the owner never came for
Cobwebs shut the panes of the glass
There are letters that
are always incomplete
And wild flowers that sleep
through the winter
evening sky flaming deep purple
Like my unwritten stories with
their conscience in these poems

Advertisements

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