This winter's winter poem...


Possessed

Walking alone I was not
alone carving sharp
sculptures of footprints
in shallow snow leaving
a shameless man trail
-- I was alive but
not alive, punched in
the nostrils with the fresh
hard smell of ice
permeating the beguiling
night, silent but not
silent. I joined kindred
souls undead knowing the
tingling vampire thrill of
answering a nocturnal call
to discover an inspired Being
in noncommittal contact
while sucking on straws stuck
into ice coffee smoothies,
to know and not to know
love spelled in neon,
floriferous in the thrall
of The Mall.



Poetry by Peter J. Kautsky
Read 647 times
Written on 2007-02-01 at 01:50

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Rob Graber
Surprise ending: the mall a wilderness in its own way!?
2007-02-01