Friday 22 January 2010

Running.

I cannot hear her voice; with desperate fists it
forces its way through the jumble of too many people.
No. Cold fear is my glass cage before the bars shatter.
With a surprised smile you are already away and
I was not there to stop you.

I push past the confused perfume and gossip curls, Move!
Frozen incompetence in yellow light, with cold eyes
for my rudeness. I stumble from the doorstep,
bare feet graze and Oh. Just a laugh at my slowness.
There you are.

Stamping bells and a thudding heart for my guilt.
I suck in the leave mould shadows, follow
your colourful echoes - she is not far behind -
but I’m pushing against air Please The danger;
you are too too near,

And then I have your sleeve. At the corner the clocks stop
For one whole second. Innocent eyes Thank you
in the dappled sun but I cannot catch your gaze.
Your warmth against my palm is a reminder.
No, she does not blame me.

01/10

1 comment:

  1. nicely done Blue Bird...especially like cold fear is my glass cage before the bars shatter..thanks for sharing this

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