CROSSROADS WITHOUT GUIDEPOSTS II
Now it’s already cold.
We go around cafes.
Warming ourselves up with.
Crowd of voices and.
Unknown shapes..
All traffic lights are.
Monotonous…yellow light.
Flickering..
We can stay here..or.
.
Travel on…and the.
Street of Return.
Is opened, too..
We’re standing on a zebra crossing...
Not knowing the right direction…expecting.
Salvation from aside..
Let the coincidence decide..
No! Let the feeling.
Choose direction..
Be it whatever..NO!.
Let ourselves take initiative..
Answer was given away.
By twilight...
Good, old, generous.
Twilight..at the very instant.
Of melting into the night….
Night..which lasted for.
Even one hour more..
Now it’s.
Warm again.We build.
New bridges.
Avoid unfamiliar streets….
Search for unknown paths..
Maybe, just maybe, we’ll stumble across.
One of them,.
Right now, here….
At once, straight away behind the.
First curve..
And maybe,.
Maybe we’ll even discover.
A guidepost..
NY August, 1988.
LE FastCounter
More Links
Back to Poetic Soul's Home Page
Crossroads III
Back to previous page
Next Page
Email: poetic111@yahoo.com
