Heart Beats without Ears
2009 January 9
Notes of the mundane
chime in my brain
while the poem waits.
Hope is the last pick-up line
I have, dawn’s drum.
I can hear it in the house,
Salvador’s rain tapping
the rooftops of old stanzas.
Books line the shelves
unopened, little heart beats
without ears.
They won’t listen.
They have already been
where the rain is going,
and I don’t know
how to stop it.
3 Responses
Comments are closed.
This is really cool-
Thank you. I visited your site, and it is beautifully done. There are some similarities in our tastes for both photos and writing, which is rare to find and fun to see. I will be making some more detailed comments on your work soon. In the meantime, I have placed you on our “Favorite Forums” links. Great to hear from you! More later.
Oh thanks..I will likewise-