A joke I've been making to myself
because I can't be that dumb,
but it feels like the
national anthem has just concluded
and woken me up,
it's just about midnight
what, where was I again,
the dew, the morning dew that's it
the dew, how am I going
to explain what frost was?
The dew, what it was like,
in cotton sponging the
windows from inside,
the dew my foot on the pedal,
the handbrake on
trying to revive
a Ready Brek glow
fading filament orange,
the dew, half dead in shorts
as a stoat in the
grass crunching stems wet,
running towards what
for what.
Feels like a cold hurricane
out there now,
my crispy hair
rustles sadly.
Frost was abundant,
its white ink
tattooed on the veins of
dead leaves.
beautiful work!
ReplyDeleteNow I have to look up what a stoat is and whether one or two syllables. They're cute. and Redy Brek is instant hot porridge? Just add hot milk or water. Yum. I eat oatmeal. Wow I'm no expert but cant say I have seen someone do so much with dew. A poem like this was over due. This is cool: "but it feels like the/national anthem has just concluded/and woken me up," thanks I like the way it just keeps bringing the "dew" it's really committed to it. But where's the vaccine?
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