Farewell, Poetry Month

For reasons that now escape me, I never posted the following on Friday.

We need to celebrate poems every day of every month. I’m breaking my rule about letting my poetry show in public.


The shadows lie barely visible over the grates for warmth,

Their newspapers, bags and tattered things

form odd shapes with their huddled bodies.

The wide boulevard glitters with light,

Hiding the shadows,

The sparkles appear in limn,

A flash of chrome, headlights in the night,

Neon makes a shape

The shadows form a silhouette.

The shadows hide from the chrome, the glare and the lines of light.

A woman sparkles past,

Her hands, her neck, her ears, her feet,

Even dead animals she wears

Glitter in the lines of chrome,

Only her eyes are dead.

The shadows move in show, approach the glitter,

She wraps herself in the protection of the light,

It flashes and refracts,

But cannot burn within.

She moves,

But the shadows claim her for their own.

One Response to “Farewell, Poetry Month”

  1. Betsy Says:

    I like it! My poetry tends to be more smartass than serious! I’ll send some to you.

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