I am your failed experiment, your outcast that you hide from the tourists who flock to see the famous CN Tower and Rogers Centre. I am the rusty car you hide at the back alleys. The one with the unpainted doors, broken hood and dirty windows. I etch loneliness and regrets on the graffitied walls. Under the darkness, I hobble along city streets where every space is calculated with parking meters and silver glass towers shimmering like diamonds. Only the penguins greet me, nibbling the breadcrumbs near my feet. I set a stained foam cup on the sidewalk and watch the tail light of cars and buses blurring out of sight. My liquor-breath mixes with autumn's cool wind, blowing this morning's newspapers deep to the shadows.
A lilac maple leaf falls
on the fountain, empty of water-
while black birds count-
perched atop electrical lines
basking under hunter's moon
while black birds count-
perched atop electrical lines
basking under hunter's moon
Grace@Everyday Amazing
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg. Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST. Thanks for the visit~
