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Thursday, October 02, 2008

The Elements




















Floodtide, a temporary
lake gathered under
the railway bridge by

the dip in the road
and a jogger running
on the spot, confused,

not wanting to lose
momentum. A drain
spouts a fountain

and streetlights sink
the luminous bricks
of their reflections

into brown water.
The pallet that floats
past numbers not one

survivor on board.
A terminal air
things are taking,

I would have said
once, but there
is no escaping

as lightly as that.
The rain keeps
coming and why let

something as minor
as our flood-sodden
end stop us now?

2 comments:

Mark Granier said...

"I would like my love to die
and the rain to be falling on the graveyard..."

JAAAAAAACK said...

Sleepers flooded though, so every (rain)cloud...