Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Phantoms and Tail Lights

Idyllic scars oozed from a ribbon of asphalt,

forlorn windows gaze from derelict houses their

shadows stretched out like gravestones in the

late afternoon sun. A broken down café smiles

with the promise of real home cooking, echoing

with the clink clink clink of cutlery on plates. A

town of phantoms and tail lights shimmering on the

surface of the silver pool of your rear view mirror.

Gaining notice for an instant before slowly winking out.


June said...

I'll think of this next time I go through a tired old town...

Jackie said...

Oh, the nostalgia from my child hood town calls me... I imagine a town recently torn apart by the hurricane. Great work.

Cynthia said...

Oh my gosh, Blanca Rosa, your poem
is surreal and vital. A cafe that is a diamond in the rough, just
waiting to embrace travellers who
need that home-grown comfort.