wind in the chimney
The wind in the chimney echoes
echoes.
Air skims the pot
brings a memory floating
down to the ashes.
No coal for the fire.
The hearth it lies empty
empty empty
just the wind in the chimney
roaring roaring.
Comments
Damn - missed that! -- it's a long time since I swept any chimneys ;)
I must get my brain back in gear.
Nice one.
Of course this poem is about sex - or the lack thereof.
Very evocative, Ann, in just a very few words.
This reminded me of a phrase my mother used to use -- whenever the wind whistled down the chimney, she'd say it was 'Lucy Moore' calling -- never did find out why.
<Deleted User> (6895)
Sun 17th Jul 2011 20:15
or-
a flea and a fly in a flue
were imprisoned,what could they do?
said the flea "let us fly"
said the fly "let us flee(flea)
so they flew through a flaw in the flue
******************************************
you have been a lovely audience-blod guess you.
Mr. Wilde..x
If you wish to post a comment you must login.
Ann Foxglove
Mon 25th Jul 2011 18:39
Maybe I'm just too obscure!