PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Slumped illusions
bat their eyelashes
          on the wayside—
The apathetic hitchhikers
laughing into the shadows
of a Cheshire night
              with no moon.

          Then,
          collecting pieces of the sky
in a wrinkled coffee cup
I drink them in,
The stale coffee of stale evenings
The old wishes bound to old time

      Into bed
        Before the sun wakes
Bones creaking like door hinges
Under the sheets,
Your picture on the nightstand
Of the future I dream of
But don’t believe in.