sway
The curtain sways in the wind like a hanging man whose last
light of life has left. Sad songs stumble from the speaker and an ageing man
lies alone in a room reflecting upon the things he once loved that have now
slipped through his fingers. On Monday he flies to France for purposes of
business and it seems so meaningless. Last night he drank with the Irish,
German, Italian and the Spaniard only to awake this morning with a terrible
hangover and to stare at the bright sunlight staining those swaying curtains
with a pain in his eyes, his head and in his heart.
Comments
Post a Comment