Grey bricks of aging tenements
water stained, by blowing, driven rain.
Pavements wet and slick,
lit by the weakened yellow
light of street lamps.
Cold eating into my bones as
I walk hunched over moving
only my frozen feet.
Hurrying underneath the overflowing roof top
gutters that spill their slosh and debris
atop this useless umberella,
that is now blown inside out,
my clothes, my hat,
wet and sagging about my body.
This rain makes me care not
for any human I may chance to meet or
motor cars that halt my path,
I am going home,
to heat, to fire
be it in my house or hell,
My mind can think of only the
blazing orange fire that surely will
be burning in my grate
and the warmth of rooms
tended by my love
who waits.
A contest entry
- Choose A Color and Paint a Poem... by poet2angels.
775 points, ended December 9, 2007, 18 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Frozen
I felt the coldness as I read your work. An excellent flow. The images reminded me of New York, Chicago, or possibly London. -
WOW
Congratulations on that gold trophy with this one, it DEFINETLY deserved it!!! This poem just stayed amazing all the way through, Nicely done!!!
+- Omni -
WOW!
This is as gray as I have ever seen ..The imagery is amazing....I love this, every line....
I can feel the color flowing through me...now that is showing and not telling...I am impressed...
Lynda
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I thank you very much,
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