This I wrote today:
The intro to winter maple trees
Stand lonely sentinels on the boulevard.
Flame red and dew moist fresh
Blazing into the pale blue sky.
I admire their years' end show
A brilliant finale
A final stand
The last bow.
My heart flutters wild applause
I am the standing ovation
I am the curtain drawn
And the anonymous night,
The darkness safe
From prying eyes
And even the softness
Of candle light.
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About Me
- roberto kiam borderlineartist@gmail.com
- I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.
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