At Bingley Three Rise

By Parson Thru
Sun, 18 Oct 2020
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Like an opened grave, the chamber
Falls away beneath me, stone walls rough and wet
Water sprays through the mitred gates
As from some monstrous cold urethra
A push or an inadvertent step
Would bring an awful death in that bleak trench
There’s not a soul in sight
Just the presence of the pressing pound
And the playful and exuberant sound
Of water going home
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Sound of water
going home. Succinct and glorious at the same time. Like the location, doubtless.
Gibbous House: Ewan's First Novel
No Good Deed : Ewan's Second Novel "the same as the first, a little bit louder and a little bit worse"
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