crowds cheer another sun setting
somewhere past the town of Jerome
people over friendly, seeking
something lost
ghosts clammor
bardello lady saves change
who gets a piece of her pie
their slice of the dream
sleeping in beds by the shift
closer to the surgeon’s house
suffering smells sink
deep in their chests
wicked city sitting high on the hill
while another source of money
down in the valley
franchise of energy worshipers
into the mountains
narrow dusty roads
parallax of the mind’s own tricks
sharing a moment with the ancient ones
I’ll tell you the truth
it’s a powerful vision
up close they shape shift
out of time and trouble
Your words match the effect of the tree’s silhouette on the night sky, Tom. Nice job.
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