Looking Behind
A whisper – a call
a true moment
The tip of the mountain -
a blanket of fog
Rushing with the sound
of a train
The whole life shakes -
a split in the wall
of a bridge
Small pebbles tumble
Messages on a wall fade
Bloomed trees are consumed
like an avalanche of heaven
moving into a small town -
a brick street -
a coffee shop -
the smell of the sea tortures the senses
A cloud rumbles down -
soft whisps reflect in light
The echoes of the whistle fade -
the town huddles -
candles in windows,
flashing signs,
and a sidewalk lined with colors. . .
such beautiful colors.

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JimWisneski
Poetry
Free Verse
writing JimWisneski
I write because it's how I speak to the world.
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