Elsewhere
By Ladle
Mon, 10 Dec 2018
- 3330 reads
8 comments
The swish of the 440’s tyres. Two chords on my headphones.
Passengers’ smiles.
I am now from elsewhere:
No map for this place
All the metaphors raise their hands
Me, miss, me, miss, me
Fortnightly my heart leaps
A leveret in a dusk-silent field.
We hold each other through the night.
I think I have new skin.
On the 440 back, I/nomad
drink water from your bedsit/oasis
You aren’t lost, say the metaphors
This is what being found feels like
This elsewhere’s just
The place where love is
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Comments
1 User voted this as great feedback
smart, very smart. I like it.
smart, very smart. I like it.
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1 User voted this as great feedback
A classy write. I enjoyed
Permalink Submitted by luigi_pagano on
A classy write. 
I enjoyed the read.
Best, Luigi
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1 User voted this as great feedback
This poem turns the ordinary
This poem turns the ordinary into the utterly extraordinary, and it's our Poem of the Week. Congratulations!
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