Salvation.... Comes To This

full moon dripping
down through the trees,
the last train to nowhere

rumbles down the old tracks...
your eyes, staring softly
through the half lit window,

seem to speak, but leave
empty spaces where
naked words should be....

salvation then, comes to this,
the imprints your fingers leave
on the doorknob you just locked!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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