Treptower to Finsbury

Profane words echo from
park and bright street
to resting bench at dusk.

They dance with the stars
peeking from behind a veil,
Shivering in coming night,

Darkening trees that wave
distractions in the face of
elegant phrase and gentle touch.

Profane words echo from
park and bright street
to resting bench at dusk.

Glimmers of light spread
across open smiles and
hidden thought below,

Painting tired paths where
scurrying creatures find
their lives and their joys.

Profane words echo from
park and bright street
to resting bench at dusk.

Red browns, fallen to the
winter greens, warm cold
spirits in their prone,

Watching in awe at
movements composed by
lover’s heart and friend’s cry.

Profane words echo at dusk.

treptower to finsbury

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