Thursday, May 2, 2013


Cigarette smoke in the light of the moon

The bed creaks as I turn and
ancient bedsprings stab my back

I wake to yet another night
too late to play with others

The clock pushes four a.m.
The trains still run a schedule

There are only two cigarettes
left in the pack

1 comment:

Thank you for reading my blog, and spending some time with me... I am truly honored.