Search Website
Close Search Pane
Toggle Menu


by Zan 

Our  passive silence seemed to hold this street hostage,

Her despotic display of wealth and snobbery mars the serenity of our collective solace,

Robbed of our designated parking spot- its after eight- mass silent hysteria lie in wait.


Written in response to Ian McBryde's 'Beyond Omerta'
Exercise: Write three lines that describe what happens to your street, garden or room as the sun goes down. 

Go to Stacks Poets's profile to read more poems