Thursday, August 11, 2011

The Cracked Sidewalk of Kentucky

One summer night, as I walked alone
down the cracked sidewalk of Kentucky
underneath a canopy of maples
where the moonlight fell
through branches
and lit my path with uneven lines

I wondered

where does the residue of lust and desire go
when everything you want to hear
has been said

(This was the very first poem I ever wrote. I workshopped it in my Poetry class at The Unversity of Pittsburgh... I haven't touched it since. It's time to sharpen my pencil.)

No comments:

Post a Comment