Sounds of Winter
by Ljubo Popovich
Brittle swarms of moth-like snow
Slushy streets slowly thaw
Somewhere, the scream of a deep-throated train
Dim reflections percolate into windows
Ladies breathe like trembling icicles.
They quietly gaze with espresso-dark eyes
Footsteps filter down dirty alleyways.
A waitress, tiered with plates, pauses
Evening settles over the ashy horizon.
A tawny maiden haunts these boroughs.
One of these years, her glassy eyes will fill with tears.
Copyright © 2018 by Ljubo Popovich