all i hear is
my
discount
trainers
making soft taps
on
the split tarmac
early PM
brown leaves tumblefloat on ghostwind
the A road
is a
hum
more imagined than heard
like
the future
or
like
approaching progress
invisible
beyond
browngreen horizons
and
when the phone
in
my
buzzes its muted rumble
the
parkpath world to the cafe
suddenly
appears
a
relic
from
a
longgone time
No comments:
Post a Comment