by Robert Lloyd Jaffe
Underground among the grey-painted
bookstore shelves
a rumble of the train, and
on the way home
when the lights flicker and
go out, it could be mules
instead of people.
The end of a long day
comes,
and I wipe my bloodied hands
on my tie
as I climb the stairs to the
light
and feel the fresh air
on my blackened face.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
I am an observer and listener of the music of life. Where I find cadence, I find my interest and passion directed. It can be sound, light, smell, or purely an experience of thought. The sky, the sea, the mountains, and the machines that allow me to explore those places draw my attention, and give me serenity.
Last updated May 09, 2016