Pile Of Books

Poem

pile of books,
old cigarettes
dust
and a letter on the table

wind coming in
through the cracks
smell
and a worn sofa

rat remains
on the dump floor
grass
growing in the corners

an empty room
once full of life
deserted
and left to starve

a broken hope
still remains in the air
forgotten
but once imagined

a coffin
under the ground
silent
and resting forever
more by Ursula Babic

photograph by Anastasia Polischuk

The Writers Manifesto