The Writers Voice
The World's
Favourite Literary Website
Hugs in Lonesome Street
by
Rusty Broadspear
Unavoidably,
inevitably bearing
A lifetime's accumulation,
Of weights and fates.
I stand stooped,
In history's lengthening shadows.
As the day unhurriedly dies,
I shiver to the cries
From unseen gallows.
Hug me warm.
For deep within the caverns of my soul,
One by one,
Endless strings of bulbs,
Dim, flicker, silently explode.
Thoughts expire
Or wander aimlessly
As senses are slowed.
Trembling, I grasp my twilight's briar.
Hug me silent.
For words will not heal,
Or steal the creeping hand of fate.
The chatter of birds
Provide a welcome echo within,
Masking noiseless words.
Insanity in my grip,
To devour, if I should so wish.
Then slip into a concluding trip.
Hug me rock me.
For childhood awaits
And maybe these weights
Will evaporate.
I thank the world,
With undisguised gratitude,
For my humble moments
Treading it's boards.
My very self applauds.
Hug me close.
For as footsteps
Reverberate in lonesome street,
I whisper goodbyes to tribulations.
My part, as yet, incomplete.
For I have something to say
With remnants of hopes and expectations.
I hug you with love.
Critique this work
Click on the book to leave a comment about this work
