City Park
The park empties
inside a nightgown of dusk.
They have talked
yet only now are they speaking
through a rhythmic articulation
of the unsaid.
She a trembling levee through which
a river seeks a sea,
he a plow
in the hands of dark angels.
There are groves of trees,
shadows in hiding,
places buried deep
into the crux of earth-ripe passions.
There they peel the layers,
conceal and reveal,
utter body prayers,
swear to retain and preserve
every demanding ounce of themselves
as one being.
The park glides into a dreaming starlight,
they leave, holding a tenderness
like a frail child between them.
A garish daylight glares, reshapes the park,
with a stark and angular graphite.
Walls and barriers are duct taped together,
the sky patched and reeling,
hideaways questioned and scuff-marked
by a tramping tread.
The city reclaims its grout and mortar
crouches above a grey and concrete claw.
Crumbs of an ill-defined regret
are left out for the sparrows.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
