STREET POEM Aug 77
Quiet still City Street, Sleeping through the day, Sounds creeping like deaf seagulls, Cats
on sticky tarmac, Crawling nowhere, Clouds pretending to hang in the sky, Eating sunlight, Windows watching -
empty black and lace, Watching walIs.
Trees caressing the breeze. hopefully, Adventurous seeds escaping,
Aerials standing stiffly to attention, Looking towards Mecca, Flowers hiding behind windows sadly, Prisoners, People
hiding behind flowers madly, Jailers,
IMPRESSIONS JAN 76
The shadow of your hand, on the concrete, Flutters - like a drowning sparrow - dying
The grass, as green as sin, Bends to your footprint - between the cracks - Growing.
The noise of the wind, blowing the rain, into your eyes - like false tears you're cried - blowing.
The mound of your voice, on the telephone, Crackles - like wet cellophane - crying
|
 |
|