Ropes of Light
Through window panes and window
blinds and doorways, cracked open
so that the acrid scent of smoke
can waft and wander
down hallways and under
doormats, the vision of health
and warm coffee coma
mornings, office work
and cubicle torture. Everyone
had dreams of the universe
and water, bathed anew
in beautiful pools of
cobweb joy, sorrowful
mournful tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment