The Street

I visit the street

Where the spirits live
Of all who were never born...
The heart beats of a dreamer,

Some call it noise,
Not me,
As it drums up a tune

That gives rhythm to my feet

And a smile to my lips.

 

Around the corner...

I trip over a man.

A hobo to some,

An artist to me,
Collecting the tears

Of the woeful souls,

To save for another day,

As they become his tools.
Have you seen the impressions

He creates?
All with his finger tips.

The sorrows fall...
The emotions gently warm
With the kiss of the sun

My face is glowing,

Enchanted by the dreamer

Indulged by my artist.

I found my peace,
Lost in chaos

 

Reviews

[Jaclyn]

Oooh, first reviewer! Well, this is really neat. I love the feeling this evokes....sort of bohemian and wild and free, like one of the artsy sections of New York City where anything can and does happen. What I love about your poems is that you really know how to create a MOOD, a definite world of inspiration or heartbreak or bitterness or innocence...that's my favorite part of your work! :)