Rewrites (Remove filter)
The Boathouse
You once said
that there were swans on the line,
driting in from subservient shores,
arcing in a ring of pearls.
Blood orange orb deflecting now
the attention someplace else.
We sat languidly, in placid mood;
I picked a fight with silence,
let the stone drop in the shallow lake
and waited for the star to burn up
in a crumpled far horizon.
But I only heard a tr...
Friday 26th June 2015 4:48 pm
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