locked out again,
our neighbor prowled
the cold night,
ready for a light.
his smoke curled past
the porch, his uplifted
cigarette complained
against the full moon,
while his wife
peered
out,
her mini-blinds revealing
bright eyes
and a smirk.
he commenced to pounding
some secretive marital code,
a deadly beat against the door,
so primitive it brought
the forest wolf, his sharp teeth
bared, his howl
loud, and Joyce our
neighborhood watcher
shimmied up
the light pole,
calling
the police swat team,
bright moon casting
their dark shadows
across our patio.
Sounds like never a dull moment in your neck of the woods, Larry! Guess you must be the model family in the midst of all the mayhem?! You have a brilliant way with reportage; a technicolour write as usual! TY Kate xx
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
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GAD to write like you--simple words convey a story and mood brilliantly and effectively--well done
this one is a chiller *shiver*
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :)
Love Tinka