wavering weeds
burgeoned out of cracked footpaths,
touching ferns
that grew on abandoned iron railings.
forlorn houses
hid under
the shade
of tall trees
touching
one another
from
either side
of the road,
forming
a tunnel
of lush branches.
under their cold shade,
forsaken streets
bustled with silence.
YOU ARE READING
The Adventures We Never Had
PoetryLadies, gentleman and others, I coyly present to you my collection of poignant poems that sometimes fail to be even that. These poems will be unlike any other poems you've had the pleasure of reading, but then again, that can be said of every other...
