Lashing the car with its hot sweet symphony
the rain comes down, like ashen teardrops.
Industrial smog and pathetic fallacy
combine, my dejection and the weather refine
into suspended snapshot imagery.
Inside the car, my cigarette smoke blooms
into scents of home, permeating the air
and abandoned tissues, lipstick, combs
my tears are left to saunter down my face
ash and teardrops grow, combine, then cough, then race.
A contest entry
- 15/10 PIF (prompt up) by Lady Australis.
800 points, ended June 12, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Whatever..just make it good. [astonish me] by borrowing.moonlight.
1000 points, ended June 30, 2008, 160 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
this is very well done
goodluck
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