Monday, September 12, 2016

POEM: "Night Walk"

Night Walk


Down these mean streets
some real monks must go

they are not mean men
although they are hard men

ancient lanes divide
a lonely presence

the great circle plots
a whisky course

walking out with smoke
soaked by the storm

we too prowl the streets
reflexes sometimes slow

writer, reasonable crab
it depends on the season.


© 2015 Rob Schackne

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