4th of July
And then there were none.
No filler seats
or candied saddles.
No screaming serenades
by the tilted carousel.
No small painted faces
in white, red, and blue.
No starlit nights.
No country pride.
Just an ebony sky
beneath a local fair.
That site of laughter
devoid of it now.
Huddled in corners
hidden from the sun.
Free voices stifled
by a silent war cry
starting from the east
smothering the west
from a same centerpiece.
What once was theirs,
soon will be none
on this fourth of July.
© yasmín 2003. All Rights Reserved. That means that you don't take this without my permission or you die.
This is my sad attempt at a blackglass challenge. I'm going to hate it tomorrow. Just wait and see. Gah, I'm tempted to already take it down.
Comments
I liked that. And since I usually hate poetry, that's a heck of a compliment.
Posted by: Steph | January 30, 2003 9:05 AM