The leaves rustle
A windswept autumn melody,
I walk alone the urban streets
Of beautiful sadness;
The grey sky is dangling
The threat of a slow, lonely rain.
I follow a blowing newspaper
To a cold corner bus stop
And gaze at a secretary or a waitress
Making her way home.
If I’m still walking at midnight,
There will be rats and raccoons to greet
In some alley of despair,
And there is always a stray thought
Trying to remember the last person I loved.
A great painted picture Uriah, with that touch of sadness that you weave into your poetry. Melancholy write. Loved it. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
Those urban streets are playing your song. And it is unforgettable, Uriah. Warmest regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So wistful Uriah, wow. Sublime lyric of beautiful sadness.