In A Tiny Room Poem by Laurence Overmire
In A Tiny Room
the dust upon the floor
a cache of broken curios
tables cluttered clean
my life tumbled here about me
years have dripped across the walls
and pools of wasted seconds
stain the carpet and the tile
no sound can shatter silence
the dreams are buried here
do not disturb the dead
a tiny room
my tomb.
(Previously published in Rustlings of the Wind, Spring 2000)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 9:26:12 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Sets a somber and reflective mood. Spooky. -chuck