Scribbles Poem by Charles Lara

sitting on the el
in the early morning
moving out from
the shadows of the city
going home
holding time
like a photograph
waiting to be taken
or empty pages
waiting to be found
under rain catching
rainbows upon stars
sailing off the stillness
of the night
holding love with
those whom feel it
upon a whisper
brushed against by winds
working life to live
in between the dreams
without soft lies
keeps me moving
like an angel on its
way to heaven
not as young
as I remember
spilling over some
but still not too old
as to forget
an open thought
before I reach my stop
and so I write it down