Random walk
25 March 2017
Single tone
The ring of your voice
In my head
Like undead
Flowers gardeners behead
Regain new stem life
Undone strife
Unsheathed once the knife
Safely tucked
As they clucked
Disapproval a constant
Dissonant assent
Once buried
Hare and mice scurried
To the fence
For tuppence
The show a manner of calls
That dead man recalls
Sing the night
Through the larky day
They saw hay
We saw green
The hue somewhere in between
Our truths and their lies
The baby cries
When the milk turns sour
Jaded hour
Wane power
Cities where eyes look lower
Thank meekest sunsets
Waste regrets
On the living mouths
Double talk
Random walk
On brink of togetherness
Living in caress
Reading of the poem:
Take me somewhere nice – Mogwai
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Here’s hoping
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Thank you Derrick. Hope is possibly the last thing that stays with us in our humanity
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