Wednesday, 14 May 2014

a one hundred and twentieth poem...'another day'

The common smelled nice this evening, and there was the sound of an old carrion crow throatily calling in the gathering dusk.  The last busker gone from the noiseless bandstand, as well as two lovers arm in hand, and the sky was high, cadet-grey and tangerine, new leaves on early summer trees, phosphorescent green: A natural sense of calm falling gently as a blanket, only the fat Jets overhead occasionally barraging the silence with yawning roars.  Later, from my balcony door, rare peace of mind, the stillness allowing thoughts too big to share with someone else space to unwind, years of pent up tension paroled for a time into quiet nothingness, weightless and free, save the idle scratchings, cross-hatchings of pen on paper, momentarily forgetting the future, leaving the rubble of the past to be searched through another day. 

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