Trisha Romano Poet Prose Poetry

One Hour

1. The hourglass 
        is flowing
    As the wine 
        makes a splash
    In her glass
        She's crying 
              Silently 
1. The hourglass 
      is flowing
    A user
      is knocked out
    Underneath
        the highway
            Immobile 
1. The hourglass 
      is flowing
    Elderly
      man sits there
    By himself
      waiting for
            Visitors 
1. The hourglass
      is flowing
    A teacher
      yells at the
  Class for their
      lack of work
          Apathy
1. The hourglass 
      is flowing
    Passiveness
      Nothingness
    consumes our
        Existence

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Chris Green April 24, 2017 at 7:39 AM This is quite sad Trisha, it seems the sand dropping in this hourglass is dark and damp and desolate. I like how you formed this poem, the way it falls down the screen, each stanza is like another grain of sand reaching the bottom. Nicely done. Trisha Romano April 24, 2017 at 7:45 AM Thank you very much! It is very dark. I like that you compared it to my other poem, Ripple. Your feedback is greatly appreciated :)