Boulevard du Crime
On Boulevard du Crime street lamps tell tales for a nominal feeWhen fields of lowering violets pierce curtains of silent thought
Actors drift in and out of focus and frame under the heavens pellucid flame
Ethereal footlights cast a smoky glow over dramatic couples row after row
Appear as though from out of nowhere sent to audition for their roles long past
A pale maiden sails her sails bent on ink black seas casting veils on night's perfumed repast
Penning tales of immortal loves jailed, entombed unmade at last
An unseen orchestra tunes as a ghostly tide assumes the waiting stage
Sometimes between pent breaths an age elapses, a scaffold snaps, attention breaks
The mood has changed pages rewind jaded lists of tattered laundry
On Boulevard du Crime street lamps reveal that the day may not see . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2014-01-23 at 03:43
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