Warren Gates Warren Gates
Recommendations: 23

All of the imagry is good. I especially like :the rain misses you, goes right through you now"

Warren Gates Warren Gates
Recommendations: 23

'saving rainy days in your pockets..." awesome!

Shaunna Harper Shaunna Harper
Recommendations: 35

Thank you :D I do remember feeling particularly proud when that idea hit me, hehehe...

Please login or signup to add a comment to this paragraph.


Add comment   Close
Shaunna Harper Shaunna Harper
Recommendations: 35

New York, 1955


Share this writing


Link to this writing



Start Writing

More from Shaunna Harper

Metamorphosis
Letters From 213
The Elixir
Sapphire Lips
Cold Compromise

More Poetry

Deborah Boydston Deborah Boydston
Recommendations: 45
Murder in the Senseless
Leoni Carlson Leoni Carlson
Recommendations: 12
Expressivity
Aaron Greene Aaron Greene
Recommendations: 30
Author's Clog
Leonard a. Wronke Leonard a. Wronke
Recommendations: 23
JUST BECAUSE
Kitchera Hicks Kitchera Hicks
Recommendations: 11
soul mates

The skies weep
drowning
the city that never sleeps
       except it does
when you lay your head.
The eternal highway
where you fly away
every day at dusk.
Old kids read books
and become young again,
the twilight years
a space age away
and a life is lived better this time.
Streets puddle
as winter
       freezes talent
and hibernates the youth
of tomorrow.
Signs tell you to go
       this way and that
around again and back
see
       everything,
       everyone
       everywhere
while you can.
You’ll die in the city
that never sleeps
before you die
in a city that never eats.
Blowing smoke rings
in a diner
sitting pretty
in a weaved casket,
romancing with mortality.
America’s forever child,
       beautiful and wild.
I wonder if the world
was as dim as it looks
in black and white
from a colourful generation.
Strutting down boulevards
       under the clouds,
saving rainy days
       in your pockets
for when we lose the sun.
I imagine you smelled
of books and smoke and sleep.
The city smiles as you pass,
a rebel’s body
with a good heart.
       The world turns
just to keep you upright
up all night
       and why not?
You had all the late nights
time could offer.
The rain misses you
goes right through you now.
All black and white
from now on.
And there you are in memory.
       New York, 1955. 4 comments


Link to this writing

Share this writing


Next: The Killing Game