Movement Poem by Marshall E Gass

Movement



The city is slick with neons winking
at unwary pedestrians
inviting wallets into opening up
credit cards and false dreams
of luxury. Few care about seduction.

The rain drops gently
scattering sparkles
that nobody cares about. None.

at 5pm
the only interesting pathway is
home. All.

Day pulls its shutters close
and the nightlights
imitate day.

Author Notes

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© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved,8 days ago

Friday, August 1, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: metaphor
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