Wednesday, April 08, 2015

the Backs

The yards where we hide,
in shadow,
the unkempt mosaic
of living.

The waste bins -
the accumulation of rejection;
announcing their presence
with squadrons of flies
and biting incense.

The washing -
limply dressing the gardens
having purged
the pollution of wear,
guilty by association
sentenced to hang.

Yet here, where weeds blossom,
romance, in early kisses
and clumsy embrace,
in apprenticeship

‘The Backs’, in shadow,
where life is learned,
the hidden schoolrooms
where dolls are discarded
in the incubation
of dreams.

1 comment:

The Unknowngnome said...

It's been a long time since I've stopped by Keith but it's so good to know your master touch hasn't slowed. This is a gem for me.