Sunday, May 21, 2017

Stuart Rawlinson #37 - Sunday Afternoon

Deep in derelict
Shutters swat

Back and forth
Shadows remain

As sharp as anywhere
A crooked frieze

Plaster intact if
A little shabby

Unnamed birds
Stab across the gap

Between the palm
Leaves and pastel

Walls. Geckos crawl
Patter feet

Too fast
To comprehend

Sunday afternoon
Crouches, bent but

Unsprung, torque
In the making

In the turning
Petals to the sun


  1. Good morning, Mrs Jones - how's your bird's lumbago?

  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

  3. 'torque in the making' - great line - again!


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