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Dark Poetry #4
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Cold Noise
| Dark Poetry #4 |
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Cold Noise |
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jjote Senior Member
since 2002-12-25
Posts 1088Ontario, Canada 
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Age weaves creases on the face, starts to remember things, savor and play them over and over, like choice recordings, covering the bad memories with good ones, like a blanket over cold feet, like moonlight over night shadows. Life cuts the ribbon tying a gift, unwraps and exposes it. One begins to wish for quiet and a room free of echo, bury one’s head in dead leaves, talk to the trees or the rocks, listen to the cold noise of dead things. |
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