In the quiet lull of late evenings fading
its so very easy to wonder aloud
why life's exuberance and youthfull wonder
have removed themselves

bluesy movements and lonely brown bottles
watch eyelids droop and egos roar
their truimphant anthems of thunder and conquest
to an enemy long since bored & moved on

unvisited rooms of broken promises and empty dreams
craving life and hope, hearing grey mutterings
and aching denials of days past
surely must crave a shouting man's moment

these old walls having seen so much more
than both sides of many lifetimes might love
telling tales to an unhearing audience
or one who needs the company of any other voice


Kent Mackey
(c) copyright Jan.97

Poetry Magazine