No pilot

[DieterM]

Sleet sweeps over
black-washed sidewalks
dark blots with hunched shoulders
trudge behind dogs that look like rats
our windows, fogged up,
blur another sleepy
November evening,
curling cigarette smoke
rounds off the smells
of cinnamon and baked apples,
your sleazy smile behind
Merlot and crystal
shines like a record of spring,
and then, Laurie Anderson
declares like a tagline,
'There is. No pilot.'

[kiz_paws]

Sleet sweeps over
black-washed sidewalks
dark blots with hunched shoulders
trudge behind dogs that look like rats
our windows, fogged up,
blur another sleepy
November evening,
curling cigarette smoke
rounds off the smells
of cinnamon and baked apples,
your sleazy smile behind
Merlot and crystal
shines like a record of spring,
and then, Laurie Anderson
declares like a tagline,
'There is. No pilot.'

I thought the imagery was awesome, love the way you wove your words together.
Beautiful poem, reads well.

[Dreamwoven]

I second that sentiment!

[tonywalt]

Love the imagery, a darkness to it, great ending

[DieterM]

thanks, kiz_paws, Dreamwoven and tonywait, for reading & commenting. Glad you liked it :-)