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Metropolis

by Vikki Owens

this hand,
this fist,
this concrete mess
of highways twist,
towards endlessness..
i see a window where
business sits
and punches timeclock
listlessness.
my car in transit whispers
with lonliness
until urban sprawl settles in
to idleness,
and with all the glasswork buildings
its your door i miss.

03/12/2011

Posted on 03/12/2011
Copyright © 2022 Vikki Owens

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Charlie Morgan on 03/12/11 at 08:09 PM

...vicki, what a nice traipse down a lane i hadn't seen before; nice slow walk thru your garden o' the panorama of life, love, longing; concepts spaced wonderfully apart yet so connected: we build concrete/metal stuff, yet we need a belongingness. and reciprecation, eh? a well-written pome.

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