Wednesday, 27 June 2018

summertime and

summertime and

the washing flies on a summer breeze,
cat on a sunbeam under the trees.
flowers of every colour under the sun,
the sort of day when i am the only one,
to flare of nostril, eyes and skin,
to feel that the whole world is my next of kin.
stop the sun! stop the spin!
let me hang here for evermore;
but no, 
             but no.





No comments:

Post a comment