by Frederick Smith
Single story homes,
Bright orange-red trees of autumn
American dream
Lump growing larger
Waiting in the car outside
I am so afraid
Electronic Light
Images of you and I
Passion without touch
Five minutes more now,
Brown leaves and peaceful feelings
Time passes quickly
Gold Penny Cadillac
Good morning, nice to see you
Chance brings diversion
Black Ink on paper
Thoughts exploding from my mind
Still time moves on
List in my pocket
Finishing a cigarette
Still afraid to know
Time to go inside
Hand scribbling words to calm me
No turning away
Frederick Smith, fifty-eight, is a poet and writer in Peoria, Illinois. His poems reflect life experiences and memories.
December 2010
