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Hidden horizons

Slightly amended with comments from WOL users

Small rivers on the train window,
rain refracts grey light, distorts landscapes
moving backwards towards the origin.

Distance swallowed in cloud,
colours washed until the remains
are indeterminate shapes and sky.

Ah the sky! So bloated and low.
Could I reach, push it back,
reveal hidden horizons?

◄ Hidden horizons

Winter's Song ►

Comments

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Andy Ainsworth

Tue 17th Dec 2013 22:19

Stop messing with my poem! Thanks Harry. There are any number of ways to play around with it.

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Harry O'Neill

Tue 17th Dec 2013 12:44

Like this,
Like that final stanza. That `bloated` fits rain-clouds exactly.

I think I would make those last two read

Colours washed until the remains
Are indeterminate shapes, and the distance
Swallowed, swallowed in cloud.

Ah, those clouds! So bloated and low.
Could I reach, push then back,
Reveal hidden horizons?

Sorry for messin` with it (it was so good)

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