Monday, 18 November 2024

i think ~ he thought

 i think ~ he thought 


i think

he thought

above the inky

estuary 

as the flow

flew the words

where the boats 

of thought lay

stranded on the high tide

of his drinking day

and querulous as he seemed

the lists of words were stricken

to the last perchance

that they would finally see

the estuary that flowed in me

sitting here stranded

and candled moonwise

all alone with my thoughts

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