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.

3 comments:

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.