Thursday, 29 August 2013

2 days

On the under cliff

a blind man

stops

to comb his hair

in a dogs width

of shade

she shapes to please

for early closing

by this hour of August

hover flys confront evening

and flowers look hungover


 

Under the sail

she's a confection

in naked light

taste of jasmine petals

closer to aroma

and neighbour to ice

I thought you were

a tourist

until you spoke

a hint of chocolate

walking slowly alone


 

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