The white snow, so simple
And so clear
A disguise
Laying thick over the solemn
City Street
I stand still
And listen
From the middle of the crosswalk
I hear
A distant horn
A call of frustration
From some abandoned car
At the bottom of some
Mischievous slope
The owner long gone
For a coffee no doubt
The wailing call continues
But grows ever the more faint
As the battery
Drains away
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A/N:
I've learned never to throw away a notebook or stack of papers without checking to see if there is a lost poem hiding within. This is one of those saved poems, that was lost but now is found.
I added the word 'snow'.
And replaced the word 'getting' with the words 'laying thick'.
This is a special poem for me, something about the personification of the abandoned car, juxtaposed against an owner that has retreated to warmth and some fancy coffee creation.
Cheers,
-DarthPadre
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Maximum Exposure
PoetryThis is a continuation of 'Exposed'. There is no theme per se, just poems i have written over the years. If you see something you like please vote, comment and share. If you think you see one of those one in a hundred poems, shoot me a note, i'm...
