Thursday 31st August


The door swings free on it’s hinges,
Let’s a cool breeze in,
The hand that closes it deprives me of a thing I like,

Feet climb something tall to elevate a head above a roof,
In search of lost memories,
Corrugated metal,

Relief angle,
Paint runs down the legs of concrete leviathans,

EPIC – concealed,
Painted crude,
Out of sight,
On the back wall of a house that doesn’t know it’s there,

Smells like a long day,
And wood,
And an old dream like a cow,

A face in a hand,
A neck ringed in Gold,
A thumb playing games,
A glancing pair of eyes,
A small White paper dot half-way between the feet



1 thought on “Thursday 31st August

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