He lies arched to the recess
wily as a feral cat
This doorway from the world
his space,his patch;
His wall against life
The other side, their rat race
a trap for the unwary.
Turmoil gathers, wakening
Wryly he reaches for his caps
One to unscrew
One to lay flat.
I like the equilibrium of his caps, Desmond. Good post.
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DESMOND CHILDS
Sat 7th Oct 2017 07:33
Thank you for your comments John. Much appreciated.