Shadow Streets

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

After pours of drinks, lightening burns
To extract brightness of head, heading north
Far from that dilapidated seashore,
Ya' can't see it no more.
Story o' leaves bloss'ming over pavements,
Cold gray dark pavements like the shadows,
Cold dark black mold to hide the croaking creeks.
What's that noise of somethin' weird
That's so loud but invisib-le?
Bleaking blackness three directions,
Walking in the pleasant senses;
Dissertations hearing in pods of sound —
The motley world distilled in slovenly guttoral trends,
Feelings aghast, like overbearing shadow.
Bends and bends —
Nice to know the shadow bends
Amid the mucky sleet,
The streets bored of passage
Going down, so softly down till n'one around.
Eclectic shapes an' sources.
No more lighs amassing golden blockage, fiery speckles,
Luminous wrath on my abyssal precious pixels
To sear the sockets with disdainful judgment.
A light's design in corners after hours
Without its selfish glow gives lovely breath in
Reflectations in puddles.

The night's a pleasant place for walks.

Submitted: October 12, 2021

© Copyright 2021 horatio.wildebeest. All rights reserved.

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