Written by Thomas Turman

Image: Ghost Town by Stefan Bleekrode

Timeworn wood buildings

   huddled against history,

leaning against one another

   along empty windblown streets.

People, hats down against the wind,

   pass neighbors with name salutes.

“Everett.” “Silas.” Lost in the wind.

   There is always next week.

This work was featured in issue #6

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s