a fortress
in shallow greys and blonde tresses
a fortress
empty as the surrounding desert
the giant face
of the entrance wall
with eyes, wide, penetrating
barbed lashes at the ready
granite-lipped drawbridge sealed tight
the mouth snaps
creaking shrilly in the wind
a whispering, questioning breeze
blowing ever out, sometimes gently
but sometimes a blasting gale
those mocking eyes brook no entry
that sharp-toothed mouth denies all refuge
that emptiness will not be stained
by the passage of travellers
-
the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
-
for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.