Tuesday, 1 April 2014

Part I

Skies turn treacle
almost like they were playing
a huge joke on us
instead of blue
across the flames, 

Weaving a laugh
ghost like across the dockyards
across the tram tracks
graced with melancholy
instead of a playful wind

Painting pictures across
the slow journey home
half sticking in the water

Taking us back to where
it all came from. 

1 comment:

  1. Truly when the skies meet the water level of the horizon, all the Universe becomes one. And we travel through time through pen and mind