Monday, January 17, 2011

In Staccato Light

Image borrowed from Bing

In Staccato Light

In staccato light
that the sun throws
through the blinds
I face your music
Your voice ricochets
in accusation's gloom
unspoken words form
a conga line from
you to me.
Like a twisting black mamba
we dance our mambo
one foot out
and then the other.

Karen S

Posted over on her site Creative Kick
Listed as #104 over on Magpie Tales 48

1 comment:

Karen S said...

Glad you liked my poem.