Black boughs through streetlights: -
raindrip sparkle circled smiles,
soft hachures / plashes on light furred
in broad puddles, blap, blip,
slip in stream,
slow guttering sidelong.
All is liquid, lambent, mild,
and am I yet a little child,
suffering my own self to be
rained on in this dark astir,
then listening to rhythms blur
on tin car roof, writing to thee
after my work is through
this mellow night in Crewe.
YOU ARE READING
Winter Trails
PoetryWinter Trails is an album of my poems, journeying through late fall when the wire of the trees begins to dominate, till the end of January. After promoting it and it soaring to three quarter million reads, Wattpad unceremoniously dumped it. Here it...
