Poems from cstew1999

Chopin's Nocturne in C Sharp Minor
Tattered and torn clothes Weighted gait and pale face. The man makes his way to the piano, as if to play. Months of silence. All the time...
Watercolor Autumn
  76 MPH down I-85. The tires rolling underneath make me think of a galloping horse. For five hours, I watch the scenery change Towering...