Friday, August 27, 2010
Last Act by S. J. Williams
The moon waits for death
shining through my window,
across my bare legs,
cleansing me with a silver glow.
I'm almost ready.
Washed the little cotton curtains
in the bathtub.
I'll let them dry in the sunrise,
hang them as my last act.
Closing them
so I can't see the rest of the day.
(C) Stephen Jarrell Williams
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1 comment:
In a word, bleak. But bleak is all there is sometimes.
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