Whispered lives

Pedestrians on sidewalks
waiting for
late buses and worn handles
grasses tall in a field 
watching a pretty woman’s face,
shadows underground
her feet,
they listen to the sounds of
her soul
city streets covered with
umbrellas and
late appointments.

Flowers in her hair,
wears perfume,
clothes gray and white
a traveler down a dark alley
unfolds a map,
dim dome light feeble
from age,
subway car’s flickering on 
and off
much as children play
with wall switches
passengers step off curbs 
into cabs, meters
like one-armed bandits.

Concrete slabs by streets with
washed off chalk and
look up into a man’s face
and aging clothes,
he hears silent voices
of children…
in his apartment a
window opened,
hears her heart whispering
from misted field.

Tickets written from quick, 
silver parking meters,
torn, scatter into
asphalt breezes and
department of sanitation
she moves, her feet touching
an imaginary dance hall
floor where they met…
slowly, he closes his window,
a kiss goodnight.

Copyright © 03/26/2014 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®


2 comments on “Whispered lives

  1. Lance you’ve captured a fantastic daily life in this writing the happenings come alive as the reader finds they’re entranced in the journey. Imaginations of what is and what could be kept this reader interested until the end.

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