Friday, 3 February 2012

Like a rusty peach painted wall
peeling back to reveal its moulded white past
i want to return
Like a grey stem folding over
sprouting a green finger nail
i want to be patient
Like a leaning bamboo weaved home
patched with weathered iron
i want to compromise
I never forget to hope
but i often wish i could
Its the darkest dampest places
that bloom the most luminous green moss
The thick burning days
that in return gift rain
So i will stay

No comments:

Post a Comment