A Poet's Dozen---Rush Hour
red tint of evening
bleeds across a glazed skyline…
crowds droop on bleak aisles
The street lamps wane beyond rush hour;
eyes missing the rarest flower…
And city lights drain people’s bones,
when aching shadows blur my view.
How lonely the murmurs heaving around
against the pitch of uptown’s restless mind;
that my own breath, withdrawn, endures its sound
replaying ticked moments of work’s toil ,blind
lost in a haste when life cannot unwind.
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~One modern Haiku,A couplet,Free verse
and English Quintain~
Silent One's A Poet's Dozen Contest
11/5/2015
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2015
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