Silver Street

The cobbles run uneven here,

sloped and sinking slowly

like a old man finally easing,

breathing out and falling

into the cushions of an armchair.

When the rain comes quick

and sudden,

the street darkens to pitch

and the rivers between the stones

shimmer with stars

thrown from shop windows,

as the street lamps lean in closer

and watch you skim across the water

always too quick

for me to save the picture.

dverselogo

12 Comments

  1. Beautifully written, Carol. I like cobbles but they don’t like me, I usually managed to slip on them, especially in the rain. I love the simile:
    ‘sloped and sinking slowly
    like a old man finally easing,
    breathing out and falling
    into the cushions of an armchair’
    and the lines:
    ‘and the rivers between the stones
    shimmer with stars’.

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