Wednesday, 24 June 2015

Ode to waiting things

There must be a tree
skyline-blotting and majestic
rich in black and green 
severally armed 
to catch and clutch
passing memories 
and abandoned sweet-nothings;
there must be a sudden flower
or an ice-cold pebble 
on a path leased to an eternal noontime;
there must be a single note
evicted from music score 
wandering from wall to wall
weeping its banishment;
there must be things 
that await recognition 
and love. 

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