Evening’s heavy dreams
have bruised the day
Will the beatings end?
Or will tomorrow, be as black
and blue as today?
Evening’s heavy sighs
have filled the air with breath
They speak the unspoken
Is there an answer in store,
Thick with the scent of prospects?
Sweet smells linger
from a paltry few
But here, the rancid
out-stench the dew.

Copyright Bleuzette Dryer 04.10.2006