Discovery

walking amongst the ruins
of this once-chaotic scene.
the silence is almost
overwhelming;
peaceful.
remnants of What Was
strewn about as
trash.
the eternal rest of
outmoded industry.

snow falls softly
in through the cracks
made by Time.
decay knows such apathy.
junkyard aesthetics
seen only as ghosts -
loss.

I could scream here
and none would
hear me.

by Stephanie Wood

Other poems of WOOD (57)

Comments (1)

another gem your terminolgy is sublime