A Quiet Corner

Hushed explosions and rapid gunfire
Leak out from the living room
Rap rumbles Upstairs
as heavy footed children tumble
A frustrated dishwasher clatters
While the comforter-laden washer lumbers towards a raucous freedom

I walk

Along a winding cobblestones of plots
Behind a fortress of verses listening to the
Voices chitter in the thicket of my keys

In a quiet corner of my own,
I write.

2 Comments

  1. novjun01 says:

    Odella Farrell

    >

    1. Thanks for reading. I’m doing more poetry to push myself.

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