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Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #1248429
a street muse

When The Best of Bad Has Flown Away

The leaves are rocking to and fro
upon a colder wind,
tossed about from lawn to lawn
between the fence post pinned.

Moonlight's shining through the trees
a mesmerizing dance,
striking here and there upon me,
midnight's sharpened lance.

A haunting song has fallen
on ears too deaf to hear,
as passing age and time go by,
another winter's near.

But now I have no place to sleep,
it's another homeless day.
There's never any good luck left
when the best of bad has flown away.

Signature created for me by Hanna
© Copyright 2007 T.L.Finch (t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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