Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Empty Afternoon

A distant beat:
The thud of broken speakers

A distant wail:
Brake pads need repair

A distant horn:
Angry motorist weaving

A distant slam:
The door signals you’re gone

A nearby creak:
Floorboards complaining

A nearby tock:
The day is leaving

A nearby tick:
Inevitabilities ignored

A nearby splash:
A single tear falling

The water’s draining

The curtain waves

The traffic stops

The night bleeds in.

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