Junkyard Dreams Poem by Stan Rodriguez

There were shadows in the darkness
made by flickers of moonbeams
falling in between gray-stormy clouds.

Love was threatened
by the coming of the morning
from our argument of unseeded pleasures
you did not want to share
in my need to release in shards of white.

Junkyard dreams fell discarded
from the hell of our discomfort—
your eyes telling me of your contempt
as I threw you to the floor
wanting you to love me or deny.

There were shadows dancing on the window
angels hold in their silence
seeing our distrust
in field of jealous and doubt.

There were shadows in the junkyard
of a love that fell discarded
late one evening
in between gray-stormy clouds.