Today, A Poem

Three Pathetic Fallacies

River is a lonely geography,
the silence of its endless course
colder than any corpse.

Sloppy hands ascend,
eager as fish,
to touch the dimpled pink of flesh.

There is a jag in the sky that bleeds daylight;
at dusk in the darkness of suburb windows
specks of hope are swimming in a sea.

[First published September 1995]

Author: Wayne K. Spear

waynekspear.com

2 thoughts

  1. I love the simplicity of it, yet it’s very intense, if that was you writing, please tell me you didn’t stop.

    Like

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