The Remnants Of The Evening by Spencer Slater


                                  Photo by Alicia Winski 2012

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More poetry by Spencer Slater:


A Bedtime Story

The Antiquarian

The Taste of Fear

The White Room

The Remnants of the Evening
Sifting through my mind
The pieces of a relationship
The blind leading the blind
Beggar at the gate
With empty cup in hand
Waiting for the sound of coins
To buy his promised land
That exists within the hearts of men
Until it goes away
The remnants of the evening
In my mind will stay
The prayers of the believer

In the sanctuary of a church
Protecting all the innocents
Who suffer in their search
For a God to place their faith in
And a love to fill their lives
In the remnants of the evening
I hear the frightened cries
Of a child for his mother
In the solace of his room
Where each corner keeps a secret
And he knows he’ll tell it soon
And when he wakes
He wakes believing
That the secrets lie in wait
For the loose change in his pockets
For the beggar at the gate
Who preys on our conscience
And sees through all our lies
In the remnants of the evening
He collects the toll for our lives

Spencer Slater © 2011