Tuesday, October 9, 2007

The homeless man with blond hair,
who passes by our window,
he is screaming at his own screaming
again and again.
The echo of a siren,
the cry of an ambulance
carrying ghosts through the city.

2 comments:

rch said...

This one catches the attention and holds it, great 'concrete' imagery in this one. ;)

Bob

writerwoman said...

he is screaming at his own screaming
again and again.

Wow. Intense. This is a remarkable poem.