
the city sleeps, in an
indecent, and incandescent
display
tired, drowsy, and
dreaming of better days, or
is it of
the oft betrayed…
it’s heart beating
a rhythm of long ago,
it wonders, and sheds
its skin
often flayed
wide open
for all to see,
like the sky’s,
transparency
walking the streets,
you can feel
the pulse
beneath your feet,
and within
the panes
of the people-less, and
windowed scene, it seems
hallow, and yet also
full of life’s drawings,
created long ago, by the people
left behind
when time
stood still,
and we were all
left wondering…
as the dreams
kept coming…
In response to the WDYS#101 prompt from Keep it Alive, by Sadje.
Image credit; Maksym Harbar @ Unsplash