Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
With each clack
of the track
the room trembles
as if in fear

Shaking at the
roaring engines
blasting into endless
paths of gray

Marveling at the
passing birds
of aluminum
looking down as gods

But then silence
and stillness
overtake the sunlit
lair of solitude

And the only
sound, sight, touch
is that of peace
and comfort
Written by
Jake  26/M/Boston
(26/M/Boston)   
  87
   vb
Please log in to view and add comments on poems