To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
The Walk Dark cracks in the ceiling magnified by the midnight moon, seem large enough to crawl inside and peer out from within. Cold tile quickens my step, as I seek comfort from the carpeted floor. I walk. The neighbor's blue nightlight flickers from inside sheer, pale curtains. While they sleep, smiling thin, tan blondes sell excercise equipment, and has-been actresses share age-old secrets of beauty and youth. I now see like a cat in the dark. The humming of appliances permeates the night's silence like the chatter of a church crowd. I walk. The creaking from the fourth wooden floorboard reminds me of long ago when he and I laid out our wedding quilt and made love under this midnight moon. At last, triumphantly, I lower myself into the old rocking chair. Its arms fit snugger than a year ago, holding me like my mother; rocking, rocking. My unwashed hair falls down upon your perfect new face. Never have I been so vacant, yet so filled with completeness. |
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!