Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears
Donetsk 2009
By Darryl Willis
The Beatles stand frozen in Liverpool:
songs etched on empty lips.
Only tourists stop to wonder.
Eleanor wanders between lifeless
roses, shadows caressing her face.
And in a park nearby Lenin
stands alone: a nowhere man.
Children have all but forgotten
the dreams of yesterday broken.
The ashes of imaginations
are gray concrete flats.
St. Michael protectively waits.
Pedestrians scurry across the road.
Taxis pitch and lurch staccato.
Darryl Willis’ poem Corona Solis appeared here in June 2011.
Yesterday, we ran in Strawberry Fields singing Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Fun blast from the past.