Litkicks Message Board Archive

silent streets, 3:38

Posted to Action Poetry




the steet was silent tonight
her tendrils sprung out,
clawing for the dawn

(while)

the echo of a distant taxi
wrought like fresh laundry
upon a hopeful rope

(while)

the reverb of fresh bread
in lieu of a foamy coast,
chewed inward toward the tide

the toasty morning