Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2011
A boy stooped in that lonely corner
saw in the vending-machine’s glass,
self-sufficient, weary eyes; less
reflective and gleaming than before.
--Do you remember the way to the car? Asks the mother--
the planes flew
and the trucks honked.
Each day, a variation of the past
when the boy stooped in that lonely corner
--and the man presses plastic numbers--
for what had come.
MMXI
Sansara Justinovich
Written by
Sansara Justinovich
909
   Dark Paradox
Please log in to view and add comments on poems