The rains come
And never really clean
The parking lots and streets
And driveways
Just carry things away
To unseen places
Far away, insensate pools
Oil residue
Creates a kaleidoscopic slick
Upon the water’s surface
As even more spills forth
Churning indefatigably from the culvert’s maw.
© Erik Hansen 2014
Filed under Creative Writing, Poetry, Writing
Your sonnet burned itself
Into our minds
A brand held lightly
Yet firmly pressed
Screaming its smoky life
Released into the world
To bring ruin upon us all
Cities lie in ashes
In the whispered echoes
Of your love.
© Erik Hansen 2014
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Edges 