A room with a view.

The mind
was no more a room
filled with wardrobes
and cupboards,
it’s contents to be
revealed when opened.
While the eyes looked
through stain glass windows,
the heart of the fire
burned, dwindling in size,
while memories slipped
on their shoes
leaving through the front door
vanishing in a landscape of thoughts,
the mailbox lid opened
cried empty.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

what a metaphorical joy this poem is....love it.
j.

[andrew mitchell]

Thanks for the smiles Jacob.