Creatures

by

Chris Lahren

An umbrella arranges the deep tonic parade of laughter,
At the raindrops and hat droppings on the side of the road.
A tear splashes the pavement while the boy trembles for tomorrow.
And the groans of sorrow fill the atmosphere, while the sparrow
Swoops down upon breadcrumbs scattered by old men.
The park benches are freshly painted by city labor,
At night they become beds for the creatures beneath them.

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Why don't you look at The Truth Comes Out
by: Landry Butler
from: Nashville, TN, US

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