The Search it was a cold, sloping deception to inhale a steam of our Dream and in the womb of the darker i see the shame walking my sleep. the seams of our conversations pulling from the edges -Silence; my Uncle Sam says "Hold That Thought," (another call on the line) felt a little Highway buzz from the exhaust of my Journey, to find me. now i am just looking for a sound to smother the peace. Next Poem Word | Menu | Mail Back a Poem ©Denise Angela Celeste, 1997. |