There were days when the sun shined
but all I remember–

the eaves drip on dirty cobblestones
wet footfalls echo in the short alley
dark, brick-walled bar, the safest place
for me to wait

chairs with wobbly legs
scrape the worn plank floor
soggy stale beer bottles
drowned cigarette butts
Christmas lights tacked to the rafters
an attempt at festive

pleading, vacant eyes
silent mouths numb with
bottom shelf booze

pen in my hand
chipped charcoal nail polish
I string together words
from the chaos of thoughts:

an out-of-tune carousel
light bulbs flicker, pop
empty horses with frozen smiles
round and round
my ceaseless thinking

last sour sip of screwdriver
heads turn to the sound of
rusty hinges on the door
wide pupils betray–he scored

we leave in silence, to return soon
I listen
to wet footfalls echo in the short alley


OpenLinkNight #30 at


About bittersweetverse

Writer, poet, lover. View all posts by bittersweetverse

11 responses to “Echoes

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