This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2017-05-07 13:14:46 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!

Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!


Ghosttown

No tumble weed city in gray fog, Babylon's mirage. Now, long after the Hegira your echoes finally died. I followed them on foot for awhile, hearing the meter vanishing,  witnessing the sense departing. Was it the ear, or the mind imagining? How do you plant a gravestone in this ephemera? Almost forty score poems in, I write for the first time an original on your deathbed, typing tears  on your pillowcase page  of submission. Ninety-six credits piled high in my silo, with no body left  to eat them,  with no doors to creak, with no tumbleweed to  run  down.  

Copyright © May 2017 Mark Steven Scheffer

Additional Notes:
You can see this formatted as intended on my facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/MSS321


This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2017-06-13 14:39:28
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
A wonderful poem and so spot on...It is truly a shame what has transpired with the site. Best always with your endeavors in the craft. Lora


Poetry Contests Online at The Poetic Link

Click HERE to return to ThePoeticLink.com Database Page!