His Silhouette Poem by Genevieve Surrender
His Silhouette
In the corner
of the dark hall
leans a silhouette.
Against the wall
it sits with
a cigarette in hand.
The graceful outline
of the whisp of smoke
from its lips
is roving about its head,
directionless.
It angles its disflavoured frown
toward me
and I see its face.
He is handsome.
He is young.
He is troubled.
His silhouette
makes rigid curves
and I turn away.
the healing form sometimes troubles the soul too appealing soon to drown so another direction is needed a fine poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 9:58:31 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I like this Callisto, you show a lot more wisdom than your years would suggest. 10 for a bulls eye.