A Last Lick

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flash images

by Dave Young
Darkness crept
through keyholes and window blinds,
swallowed up whole rooms;
laughing like a villain in a Victorian melodrama.
Colours retreat,
fingers fumble,
ravaged winter trees
and silent cathedrals in silent cities
bow to the nights febrile fingers.
He yearns to shed himself of solitude,
an outstretched arm flopping around a warm body.
But the darkness; that compass of the soul,
the hand in his hand, the voice in his ear
cloaked him in sorrow.
Oh he was occasionally teased with trinkets,
but they were soon returned to a drawer,
he can never unlock.
Dark – a new poem by Dave Young – http://www.daveyoungpoet.wordpress.com

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