Thursday, August 4, 2011

Who?

Ice house swirls with faces,
waitress, couples, pin ball kid.
Voices laugh, murmur, rail.
Thought rises from mind shadows.
Who will be next to die?
How? When? Don't ask why.
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5 comments:

  1. PeggyAugust 4, 2011 at 2:21 PM

    I am with you in this, Victoria. Ominous poem that expresses the chaos of it all somehow. Nice work.

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  2. MaryAugust 4, 2011 at 3:07 PM

    Eerie, Victoria. You just never know....

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  3. Bob HAugust 4, 2011 at 7:23 PM

    Good poem. People all around, active, and yet we never know who might be about to die or experience some other tragedy.

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  4. Poetic SoulAugust 5, 2011 at 2:21 AM

    The world would be a chaos if we all knew our dying date, imagine

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  5. Judy RoneyAugust 9, 2011 at 8:36 AM

    So scary and so true. We never know when and we'll never know why. This expresses so well what I feel as well.

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