Incident Poem by Leslie Philibert
Incident
Anywhere.Evening rain.
Snakes cross the road,
that is no longer an obvious place,
it cracks like old toffee.
Lost souls in nightgowns and slippers
foam behind wire,
a dark tide bids
then waits of the gallery of heads,
blue eyes devoid of doubt.
A world of small signs
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: disaster
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4/19/2024 3:58:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Lost souls in nightgowns and slippers. Thanks for sharing.