sabato 27 agosto 2011

the turnstile - poem

The turnstile

A siren –
The quiet cry
In a silent city
A wailing hero
The echo protracted
The ghost of our fear
The late emblem
Of fail-safe procedures.
Composing our gazes and hearts
And made to bear witness to empty, shuddering stares
A white womanly shadow
The omen of a cold, turnstile embrace.

1 commento:

  1. questa l'ho postata pensando all'evacuazione di massa a NY -- fingers crossed..