Lewis Street
grey and white house
where I would dream
wait for time
to pass its beat
over me; on Lewis street
on the cool grey
porch I would lie
cement sticking
to my thigh
rough and smooth
against my skin
I mourned the days again.
And in the mornings
I would pray
asking for a different day
to lay my head on
the cool grey metal of my bed
my chin resting, on the edge
hiding and waiting
on Lewis Street
Friday, January 18, 2008
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5 comments:
I'm trying to figure out why the "blogger" changed the words in my poem. sigh... it is really supposed to read:
Lewis Street
I remember Lewis Street
the grey and white house
where I would dream
wait for time to pass its beat
over me, on Lewis street.
on the cool grey porch
I would lie,
cement sticking
to my thigh,
rough and smooth
against my skin,
mourning the days again.
And in the light of day
I would pray,
asking for a different day
to lay my head on,
the cool grey metal of my bed
my chin resting
on the edge
hiding and waiting
on Lewis Street.
What a wonderful sentiment. Thanks for sharing.
You are very talented! I look forward to reading more.
Wow, I love poetry and this is really good. I hope you post more! Very talented and good skill with rhyming and keeping beat.
Wonderful imagery! You made Lewis Street come alive for me. It sounds like a nice place. So does it really exist or just in your head, lol?
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