The quality of light from my window is black.
An absence of light.
Cold. Dark. Frigid
wind blowing outside.
A single car drives past onto some black road
into the black night
leaving my window behind.
He will never escape the darkness.
He will just drive onward trying to
lose it, but he cannot.
1 comment:
I wrote this poem late one night as a way to push through writer's block. It is a short observation that may or may not fit within a larger poem about how light can impact our decisions, affect our mood, or alter our behavior.
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