Open Poetry #38 |
Albany |
Will Rhyme Member
since 2006-05-22
Posts 149 |
At Albany, the day is done. The Truck-Stop glows: an emerald sun spraying sparkled frozen foam onto the glass, the paint, the chrome. Here, the neon-knuckled stare, entangled in the Rabbit's snare. From the puddled pools of night, steel-belted souls now splashed with light. Deep inside, somehow I know that hopes die in this hazy glow of loneliness. The miles have caught me here, you see quite suddenly, at Albany. Written at Albany GA, 2002 |
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© Copyright 2006 Will Rhyme - All Rights Reserved | |||
poettothecars Senior Member
since 2006-02-10
Posts 1093New Zealand |
an interesting poem, a nice read a poet who cares |
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Ella Blue Junior Member
since 2006-05-26
Posts 47 |
"Deep inside, somehow I know that hopes die in this hazy glow of loneliness. The miles have caught me here, you see quite suddenly, at Albany." I like this! It rings true for all who travel as a compulsion or job, rather then as a vacationer who has a place that he wantes to come back to. I get a feeling of life less lived,in places that all seem the same eventually... nice |
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