Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Through A Sleepy Town

A yawn
At daylights dawn
It stays the same
When the day is gone

A tumbleweed here
And a tumbleweed there
Roll along derelict train rails
Chronicles a story of dreams and rundown tales

Few buildings left in this rural decay
It seems to stretch and fold its arms
Hanging its drowsy head
Sentiments and borders, safe within, no fear of harm

I perceive this town has been in slumber
For many days now, month and or years
Nary a sound of laughter or speech
Just strewn about rusted machinery of broken gears

It appears that it used to be animated
Commerce, shops and business
People make a community
But present at hand, here, is emptiness

Overgrown underbrush though is in full use
By scurrying and winged creatures roving about
Seminal, capable of development and ideas
Its resolve to wake, its being, is in obvious doubt

This town would rather be keen to nap
Than to slightly wake or frown
But it’s time for me to pass through and on
Through this quaint, pleasantly strange, sleepy town

Copyright 2014 Wandering Satellite Publishing

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