In sheen of polished shoes
the rush of feet —
pretending purpose
in a rush of hurry
to commuter trains.
Their polyestered hearts have
ceased to beat
for anything but booze
and plastic cards.
Yet —
the last of leaves still fall
on pavements
leaving branches bare,
when wind bring scents from sea
and hope.
A 55 for Hedge.
—
November 10, 2017
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
the woes and dreams of a twenty-something with too many feelings
Now we see through a glass, darkly
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry
About fantastical places and other stuff
Polyester hearts. Excellent.
Love the second stanza….the ‘me’ generation
That is always so good to know–that regardless of how people change, of how we mess things up, the world will continue turning.
ugh. polyester hearts and plastic.
thank goodness there is still some living out there, even in this season of passing. and the promise of a spring on the other side.
This is some sweet writing, Bjorn. The season carries us all on its sharp winds, doesn’t it? I especially like the center section and the plastic cards.Thanks for playing this week!
This gobsmacked me, Bjorn. The truth, the contrast between the 2nd and 3rd stanza really brings it home. I’ll be thinking of it when I’m raking this weekend.
Polyester hearts, pretending purpose and scents from sea to hope: gems.