Sunday 17:43

Posted: July 10, 2011 in Ramblings of a sober Poet
Tags: , ,

The sun sets over Kingston avenue.(© Richard Quaz Roodt 2011)

Saturday night

The smell sticks its talons into my tired body.

Clinging.

The music of hugs and laughter,

warm friends and

dark deep blue cold nights,

The fire sings us closer

…and then

The night ends,

The bartenders look homeward

Smoking ash reminds me

of the flaming time we had.

The smell of good times,

is now one with my tired body.

Chained to my bed

All day power nap to wash away

the stench of Saturday night

I woke up to a beautiful sunset

rejuvenated flesh, ready for life

In awe

Watching Sunday drag itself towards Monday.

© Richard Quaz Roodt 2011


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