There’s nothing like concrete; nothing as
Seamless and inanimate; Frost free and
Seeping into the vapid horizon
Its hand servants - desiccated trees and
Shrubs are poor companions
Inverting in embarrassment,
Awaiting flesh
Autumnal corpses murmur
The living dead that snow couldn’t kill
And the wheel feels heavy
Like a daisy chain of the deceased
A stalking thought distracts and suddenly
The body slides sideways
Like a punchy boxer, staggering,
Awaiting the killer punch
I correct it like a bored infant
Sunshine appears above
A bridge of lies
Grey becomes greyest except this splash of yellow
A different sun
A salute (unreserved) a small pink blur
Caught as I bore my way underneath
A mile along and the whisper of a breeze
Tickles a tall naked Pine
And something green moves
Nature’s litotes
The daisy chain severs
Just a wave, that’s all
Comments
MaggieG | September 4, 2011 - 15:47
I have been have fun creeping through the back pages, finding all sorts of little gems. This would most certainly be one of them :)