Even more poems

untitled
 
white noise blankets the silence;
blackness shadows the times.
and out from the center,
in the stillness of solitude,
the soul resounds.
 
vermin
 
I live like a city rat:
I come out at night,
I ignore the stoplights,
and I’m not trying to be trite,
but sometimes I may bite.
 
Friday
 
Admiring the dead trees who, like me, aren’t old
Smoking like a chimney to beat the cold
Buildings conquer the nighttime,
Their light makes one bold.
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