Scratched up sneakers step onto bleached pavement,
and our voices echo off these empty buildings.
Love drunk,
happy and stupid.
Small giggles,
spreading fast in the fading sunlight.
There is lightning over the horizon now,
and thunder threatens our little gathering.
I offer you sweet solice,
a warm hideaway.
Dim lights hide the truth,
hazy vision and mindless chatter.
Hours and hours,
we could go on like this.
YOU ARE READING
the city
Poetryand no matter how much you water scorched grass and withering weeds, you will never make a garden re-grow -M.R c.2016
