On looking back at the last year or two
As it is
there is no breach in the wall,
no bomb. There is a leg, there is a
pulling panic.
there is no breach in the wall,
no bomb. There is a leg, there is a
pulling panic.
There is an ephemeral sinking,
like one sought after.
There is a wan face it knows.
There is a blue thing and a rug, and grey drapes.
There is a milk-pail and a shovel.
There is a wall but there is always a wall.
There is a white plate there is a plane.
There is a glove a hand but there is no signal.
They had it nailed, the grey prawn,
in our minds.