Saturday, 22 February 2014

Bus note 90

        Whispering static
and stopped rain.
        That one in the bushes
        with the coffee again
(his pretend nature corner
traffic smeared).
        One wall left;
        brick dust cumuli.
White of Birch,
white, sick
and nearly beaming


  1. The way the landscape seems to blanch, sicken, crumble like brick dust... and then unexpectedly turn into something of a miraculous near-promise.

  2. Sometimes you follow the route and it's there - with a flake of hope at the close.