tagNon-Erotic Poetry528 + Infinity

528 + Infinity


Here's an old house.
If you turn right from D'Arcy Avenue,
528 is smaller than memory.
Bricks belong to strangers now
and the dogwood a spindly shiver,
bare brittle as my secrets buried
beneath concrete, my foundation
where 528 sets gray in brown.
If you dig deep you might find
the Indian penny I hid once
upon a shiny day.

Change greens with age.
My initials are eroded in a web
of cracked patio. Somewhere
in winter wind you'll hear whispers.
Grind of roller skates, flap of sheets,
a careless singsong of girls
disappearing through a screen door.

Report Story

byAngeline© 10 comments/ 4426 views/ 0 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

1 Pages:1

Please Rate This Submission:

Please Rate This Submission:

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
Please wait
by Anonymous

If the above comment contains any ads, links, or breaks Literotica rules, please report it.

There are no recent comments (10 older comments) - Click here to add a comment to this poem or Show more comments or Read All User Comments (10)

Add a

Post a public comment on this submission.

Post comment as (click to select):

Preview comment

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: