the walls are filled with the lives of children
what appears to be an exit changes to a trap
you have everything to lose
oil rainbows the water, a thin & dangerous sheen
that pain you call love pulls you away
there is no point in stopping
in the middle of the mountain road
an old woman walks in the wrong direction
she is thin & frail, she wears a red coat
years have passed, buildings torn down, rebuilt, renovated
each place you sail into more beautiful than the last
sometimes she can be heard, crying in the lake
the sun drops into the sea like a stone
you repeatedly forget what you have remembered
this part lasts forever
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And the cities still rise and rall. Lovely, S.
Posted by: Neha | 06 August 2009 at 07:03 PM
wow--lots of things that stay with me in here, especially that opening line. and 'an old woman walks in the wrong direction.'
wonderful poem!
Posted by: angie | 06 August 2009 at 07:33 PM
the old lady is haunting, as well as the line "there is no point in stopping." wonderful!
Posted by: carolee | 06 August 2009 at 08:22 PM
I love rainbow as a verb.
Posted by: Keith S. Wilson | 07 August 2009 at 11:14 AM
Nouns as verbs! Hated in many venues!
Posted by: sbpoet | 07 August 2009 at 12:57 PM
So wonderful...
Posted by: Mark | 10 August 2009 at 03:35 PM