tagNon-Erotic PoetryWhere?

Where?

bycymry©

Vagrant winds stumble
over leaves
on vacant streets.
I stand, my hands empty,
listening
to the twilight
that exists
between street lamps,
hoping that the image
of what I once was
might return.


This poem was edited with the help of twelveoone. Thank you for the time and patience you showed me.

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bycymry© 9 comments/ 3193 views/ 0 favorites

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