You go out for a walk. Winter’s
white-brushed the rooftops.
Squirrels here and there tremble.
And there’s a scream from an indefinable
source. No dogs about, just leashes carelessly
discarded in the yards. Windows, two-
eyes-closed, with lowered blinds.
And you are searching for the map in
your head thinking: Where am I?
Listening to the repulsive sound of the wind
sucking at the bones of the trees.
lovely.
Wonderful imagery, Peycho! Love it!
I think I’d remove the first sentence. I like most of the last two stanzas, so perhaps add from stanza 1 into the send two.
Sorry – “second two.” (my computer is jerky today – probably olympics snaring the bandwidth)
I enjoy this one, Peycho! Well written.