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Cold Hallways
The weary need
their lucid dreams
to find a believable shade.
In the dark corridors
the labyrinth winds
and unwinds its emptiness.
A maze made
from silk-shadows dances
like spider-webs in the night.
Threads touch the skin
to fade away—disappear
into broken design.
With a solemn gasp
a hollow echo murmurs—
stones whispering back.
A faint answer
that isn't an answer
calls out their name.
They long to find
that quartz pebble on
the tarry road to gloom.
© RH Peat 8/12/2010 5: 22pm
Form: 7 tercets/ 21 lines
depression overcomes with hope.
Ronald Peat
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Monday, August 30, 2010 |
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Comments about this poem (Cold Hallways
by
Ronald Peat
) |
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Kevin Carney (8/30/2010 6:06:00 PM)
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Wow, a great write, I love the line 'With a solemn gasp
a hollow echo murmurs—
stones whispering back.'
It just had me thinking of the meaning of those lines alone. Again another poem that you can learn from.
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