Sunday, November 3, 2013

Infinite Thursdays

Thursdays seemed to be infinite 
When she'd kneel behind the door of her room
Listen to hit after hit, invisible and precise 
Intoxications impulse-rhythm 
Fists on face 
Until finally 
Trembly whisperings heralded the 
creation of the end of the day 
Sacrosanct peace  
Glowing with the sinking sun

1 comment:

  1. Wow - powerful poem few words and every one of them packs a punch...