these days the walk home stretches
the barricades on the walkway longer to traverse
and lately the wind pushes upon me, opposed to my direction
and i wonder why this started happening
at what point, for i must have, turned the wrong way
in these shoes, tatters of gray gum all mucked up
where every intersection to arrive, as lights turn red, stop
and when the rain comes, so abruptly, to be left without jacket
and i wonder how it became so difficult
the journey, or so thought, should not be taking so long
this time, at home and into the bedroom
that silver mirror lies fragmented into pieces
blown by the noxious wind, perhaps by chance, i'm not certain,
and i look down at myself adrift in so many pieces
to wonder, dejected, how I got trapped on the wrong side
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I knew this was yours lol. I'm gonna have to try and leave a comment during voting to see how good I am. Not sure about the theme but I really do like the silhouettes. Interesting poem to go with the photo too.
Still Life - Inanimate object purposely arranged to emphasize texture, color and composition.
Still Life - Anything that does not move or is dead such as cut flowers, fruit, food, wine and so on
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