The White Curtain – A Poem

The White Curtain

The intercom buzzes.

I answer with lingering suspicions,

Obscure charitable principles:



A sense of duty.

He begs my sympathy,

And lobs a fruit into the air.

He says, I’m a man of faith and responsibility.

White beggar.

I do not refuse him,

I wish him well,

Leave him no cause to return.

He exits past security,

And lobs his fruit into the air.

A wind blows through my living room

Lifting the white curtain.

There is the first sign of drizzle on the veranda.

– (c) Darwin Franks, 2006


About Darwin Franks

Filmmaker, Cinephile, Writer, Athiest, Civil Servant

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