Border crossing hacked down raw ditches,
fragile pond swamps under grey clouding
slowly bleached white from above.
When is the sky only one colour
clear and true? There are no answers
deep as questions, currents questing
there is only identity - fragile plastic & paper:
Nothing escapes burning, melting, fire & loss,
memories fade and bodies: they die, decay, vanish.
No comments:
Post a Comment