Tonight's city skyline
is layers
of glowing
hieroglyphs
written on rain,
scrawled by
a random series
of spiritual
illiterates
over decades,
angular artificial ciphers
I cannot decode
perhaps
encrypted
neo-Egyptian,
neo-Phoenician,
or something even newer
and more unknowable,
counterintuitive
to fluidity,
so unlike
the easily readable
curved cursive
of age old
windmade shapes
in home's sandy desert.
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4 comments:
"scrawled by a random series of spiritual illiterates over decades"
Hah! Loved the tone there. (Missed it on the first read, but spied it on the second -- brought a grin and a chuckle. Heehee. ^_^)
Glad you caught that, soulless. Always a pleasure to entertain you here...
Yes that line was great. I usually don't like poetry about scenery. This is different! It really makes me smile and its so true ...
...perhaps you like it because the scenery is really the backdrop rather than the foreground, no?
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