the fair
The fair has wound up
The hubbub has died away.
Slight poignancy in the air.
And, cold status quo is creeping here.
The desertion is a dead light,
Seen through the eyes of a blind.
A monument of still life
Drawn on a gray canvas.
Forever crystallized in the
Last of the winter.
A wheel that is broken to death
Lied there ,
A monumental inaction.
Only a bright spot light still flickers
Whenever a young boy
Comes to his favorite playground
Shadows play with him, hide and seek
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Comments: 7
'A monument of still life
Drawn on a gray canvas'....
Memorable images and pictures here. Loved it, friend.
The desertion is a dead light,
Seen through the eyes of a blind. (should this be THE blind?)
A monument of still life
Drawn on a gray canvas.
Forever crystallized in the
Last of the winter.
I felt this was about a man remembering his youth, but the characterization of the still life as "in the last of winter" gives me a little pause.
Your poetic sense is wonderful, and I enjoy reading your work.