The clouds make ripples throug the sky
wisps of a forgotten trail
and the streetlights glare
their omnipresent vociferation
on those who dare depart their gaze
from sunlight's preordered substitutions.
Author notes
Randomness written yesterday. It's not in poem format in my notebook because it wasn't intended to be a poem when I wrote it. Just a random observation while I waited for the bus.
Comments
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"and the streetlights glare "
Having lived in the city all of my life, I get the observation fully.
Brava.

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Wow wow wow so descriptive ...




