And I knockA Poem by Jack...
And I knock White stone, almost beige with age, standing out in its surroundings as if old world artisans converged on this small town Black awnings of scalloped edge on an unassuming two lane street "no passing zone" fronting an empty stairway holding my heart behind a heavy glass door Vine covered walls own the alley to the back lawn where shaded dreams in soft confines begin amidst cooling breezes and I feel I finally belong A French pitch roof of rounded shingles, sweeping wall, chateau inspired, above a brick lined walkway longing for the night and the amber lamp post glow…wait Empty Highland’s and for rent signs fill barren storefronts once thriving, that now greet me with my own reflection as I wander seeking not so much what I find…but what I dream I flick my cigarette to the curb, watching it land, exploding embers on black asphalt when a beautiful butterfly lands on my shoulder, iridescent blue, rests a moment, then flies off I follow it, (it seems to want me to) as it heads towards the entrance, my heart beating… racing, nervously I glance up at the numbers, a dozen posies tucked behind my back…and I knock © 2014 Jack...Author's Note
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Added on November 1, 2013Last Updated on January 7, 2014 AuthorJack...San Antonio, TXAboutNot much to tell about me, I am just Jack, I am a poet, a writer, a musician, a painter, a builder and a dreamer. I live in south Texas but am originally from New Jersey and miss it more and more all .. more..Writing
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