invisible traffic loud as storm surge
swirls round monuments
snapped off jagged at the knees
on the horizon a high-rise ghost
dances like a heat mirage
there are no footprints in the sand
colorless, but full of sound
the memories of the dead
and of the city that never was
Inspired by an image created by Meri; you can see it here. Via Poefusion.
Collection available! Knocking from Inside
Friday, August 14, 2009
city that never was
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1 comment:
I love to see where your mind takes you off too. Your poem is wonderful in its exploration of the city that never was. Hope all is well.
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