the cold wind licks my edges sharply
a winding street carries my feet a sway
I am blind drunk.
And it is monday.
slow icy careful steps
and the rythm of passing cars
take me from this winters march
draw me somewhere safe and warm
and in my mind the headlights fall
as waves breaking on the shore
white sand memories aid my stride
and sure enough, safely, rest assured
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3 comments:
This one is really great: serene, solid, some strength, some weakness, some glory, some shame.
Way to go.
I like the pace of this one. it moves like someone trudging along. and then ending with rest. very nice.
This poem creates a sense of heaviness, and then a sigh of release.
Really good stuff.
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