Walk Down The Boulevard Poem by Leila Samarrai
Walk Down The Boulevard
These streets will never be close to me.
The land is lonely, and the sky is
A dreamy shroud the color of the bloodied stone.
Wind taps on the bones,
The birds gnash with their fangs.
My imprisoned walk desultory from collisions
with revived pillars.
I walk the ghostly cage of felt
Which serves to soothe the birds
Lost in a dream, cumbersome, I grow
Amidst Necessity.
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5/3/2024 12:09:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Very dark in this unhappy, yet necessary world. I like 'wind taps on the bones. I neither like nor understand 'birds gnash with their fangs'? Explanation to me would be appreciated. All the best Terry