Tuesday, 3 November 2015

Straight outta Compton (Wynyates)

Written on Windmill Hill

A walk – a metaphor for a life –
beginning and ending in mist:
the spindrift confetti of gulls
and crotchety staveless rooks
bursting beneath the robbed-out windmill,
and fading facets of connection
kidnapped by the crawling clouds.

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