HEY so i know this isnt really poetry, but it kinda is in a way. its for school, tell me what you think!



The dusk rolled in silently, casting virgin light onto the awakening hills. Smoldering, the whispering morning wind aroused the fire from the night before. Defiantly, the moon still hung in the auburn sky, a simple sliver of white light in the burning morning atmosphere. From the mountaintops behind came an orange orb, livening the shadows still present and fully engulfing the hills with flame.

            Soundless he sat on a sorry stump, facing both fires. Smiling faintly and briefly, as if reminiscing on a childhood story, he stuffed his sleeping bag into his pack and turned back to the city as his smirk vanished into the hardened wrinkled visage marked by the past twenty years.

He strode slowly, with purpose, the 100 yards to the streets lined with identical gray townhouses. Morphing slowly into small stores and cafes, he continued to walk until gray rank smoke filled the dirty wet sidewalk. He walked past a construction site and a broken fire hydrant, across the broken street to a large titanium steel door near a stray shopping cart. Coughing, he entered the building and climbed the steep iron grated stairs to the machinery and conveyor belts. With his usual grimace he checked in and nodded to the floor manager. The manager informed him that it was his turn to clean the floor. The man cursed to himself and left to the supply closet for the hose and his clothes. Around lunchtime the IRS agents visited him again, finalizing the paperwork on his eviction, and he told them of his plan to file for bankruptcy. Mildly and numbly, much like the man, the agents conversed with him the details of the decision, and after looking at their watch impatiently they departed. Sighing and rubbing his bloody calloused hands through his thick hair, the one part of his youth he still had left, he returned to work without a word.

            But the fire in his mind still burned, the power and peace of the morning sunrise still raced through his aging mind and occupied his thoughts until the sun began its decline far away. Nodding to the floor manager, he descended the steep iron stairs and out the heavy metallic door. He crossed the cracked road past the construction site until the smoke and stores and cloned townhouses dissipated. Then he opened the gate to the park and went home.  


18-21, M
Feb 25, 2010