Walking at Night

8 02 2009

When dusk falls over the horizon
with a toss of blood orange hair
the streetlights blink awake
to shine venn diagrams
of looped amber –
flickering on sidewalks.

They whisper each to the other
about the girl who walks alone
past the realm of lamplight
into the blurred unkown,
darkening in the night.




One response

9 02 2009

The Arizona desert is a strange place….I should know, having lived there for many years…Great poem, almost errie..

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