deepundergroundpoetry.com

Makes Jack a dull boy

A Blackbird taps for worms in the evening heat,
the garden colours fold quiet as a monastery,
shadows slowly take the grass a darker green,
the wrought iron seat sits empty without its queen.
Discussions sink to ipads and facebook screens,

I'm trapped importing images for a work-place play.
The dark has filled the drive to a house that's closed its eyes,
doors are not allowed to wake, softly held by guilty hands,
a touching paw and smiling tail soon returns to cornered curls.
I search by fridge light for dried up food that fits the mood,
a ghost inside a half full room that slides between cold sheets.
Written by Razzerleaf
Published
Author's Note
too much work
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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