Muli Amaye

Fiction, poetry, writing

Portico

Portico

A silver breeze ruffles a curtain

of green cotton, passing a crestfallen

angel with red shoes.

People cackle and titter and

a wagon hurtles past, its destination

of little importance.

Crockery patters against a plastic bowl

recalling memories of a sister standing up.

Old lives are laid out in glass coffins

partitioned, numbered, selected.

Dainty egg sandwiches wait against

a backdrop of Polite Literature.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Information

This entry was posted on June 2, 2012 by in Poetry and tagged , .
%d bloggers like this: