The Hour
I listen still
in the pre-dusk hearing only the specter of your presence in the walls Laughter muted by memory, your footsteps silent echoes on the floor Dinner is ready, a banquet of if-onlys A table for one, longing for your five o’clock shadow Wingless
She trudges asphalt of city street,
no wings to ease her weary feet she travels alone, at soul’s own cost choking on the night’s exhaust no angel here to stop her falling; no memories mute the darkness calling up she looks with final prayers heavy in the cloak she wears McWorld
Walking through the McWorld today
I started to McWonder How long before the sky is filled With patented McThunder Quite soon the McSun will be shining down On McFields of bland McFlowers And we’ll all measure McTime In corporate-approved McHours The McRocks of McEarth will be uniform chunks Of carefully portioned McGranite And we’ll all be blissfully happy On our tasteless little McPlanet Comments?
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Rita Lange Severino's profile Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time –
or was it yesterday? We ran with abandon, tumbling an afterthought of slow, but never stop. We skipped on rocky asphalt, worry renting no space in our youthful wild hearts And now we lie still on a memory foam mattress, fearful of every step that comes with ever after.
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