Cricket

Off by the wayside,

A couple sit,

In gray afternoon sun.

 

Pretzeled in a small window,

A child peeks beneath the shore,

Blankets of meadows.

 

Dandelions dig roots deep,

And the walls sink into the soil,

But the city remains.

 

Crickets tick,

Their tocks,

To the afternoon delight.

◄ God Father

Maddened ►

Comments

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adrian metcalf

Mon 3rd Jun 2019 09:29

Thank you, Martin 😃

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Martin Elder

Sun 2nd Jun 2019 22:56

I love that line crickets tick their ticks.
A beautiful poem Adrian

Nice one

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