screech screech screech

the lusty sirens wail the

village streets awash with

acrid smoke and fumes

drivers huff at redirection

signs which bids them find

another less convenient route


no menial fire this - scarlet

tenders still arrive and draw

excited kids to where the

cordon ribbons flap outside

the scene and through

this choking ambience an

ambulance departs whose

deadpan driver culls the light

◄ Canal-Side by Cheese Light.

Mirrors. ►


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Sun 23rd Jan 2011 15:16

Hi Steve - many thanks for commenting - I do appreciate your views and acknowledge being remiss and unconventional - best regards

Stefan - appreciate your compliments and taking the time to say so - cheers

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Patricia and Stefan Wilde

Sat 22nd Jan 2011 19:11

your poem requires me to be economic with praise-FANTASTIC!

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Sat 22nd Jan 2011 17:47

i like your idea for this poem -deadpan driver hits the spot...

would consider some line changes to make each line more powerful - unless intended do not leave a line on a connective...

i like the lack of punctuation :-)

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