Good night a family

Burn the shadows down the road
‘cause the the road is pretty much the same
As those shadows that would be burnt

Homeless whispers with tears falling down
I comfort hope this really sad sorrow sad eyes
Will close down in a dream
Butterflies hanging down the hair made of gold
Golden autumn grounds of streets that wind
My finger rings of crackling flames

Good night a family
Sleep thee well my dear …

‘What was really going on was a hide? In your dreams? Good night.’

©Miroslava Odalović

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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