Blue Attic
It clappers and snappers in the dark
In the stone stare echoes needles where they fall
Blue shines the window, so it vaguely eases the shade
Round the steps of 24 up the attic
Whatever shall he find there?
The door awaits still for its wake
The presence can be mirrored in the silent walls
When the hand is laid over the knob, the clock hits still
In the vague shimmer from the drawn curtains,
The glimpse of the piano grey as the time is seen
In the vague shimmer from the drawn curtains,
The piano grey as the time is distinguished
Long fingers touches by the dusty surface,
There the glisterning varnish is uncovered
Long fingers touched by the dusty surface,
Where he uncovers his glistening varnish
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Blue Attic, which
was posted on Nov 1, 2010 by
Skatmat.
This is a solo poem.
© 2010. All rights reserved.
This poem is filed under:
Imagery
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