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Started by: jarvo (30250) 

DUSK


The dusk hesitates,
for a moment a candle lit under a sheet of sky.
Across the old road, the factories ferment
in a wine of rust;

the berries picked long ago,
by the young men in velvet coats-
those ripe sweet things smiling in faded photographs-
and all hope gone.

The pretty young girls
in their ribbons and their high shoes, unsmiling now,
gone to places they never wanted to go,
with strangers they never wanted to meet.

And then the dusk bleeds
for all the old wounds are open to the frost.
Slowly, the orange red blackening
for young loves lost.


Jarvo 2020

Replied: 26th Nov 2020 at 22:02

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