Tuesday, December 13, 2016

2nd Street

Sometimes, she wonders
if Dreams are just fragments
of fear and desperation?
            Shaped, sanded, and molded.
Neat little blocks
of antediluvian uncertainties.

Out on long walks --
         the kind that's good for the soul --
Sometimes, she had thought of Love;
seeping out from behind tiny suburban windows,
where tired old wives
fight off their beer-crazed husbands.

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