It's warm enough this winter's day
for midge wings at their sunless play.
Bolt shot from grey -
a peregrine
swerves roof angles, pulls between.
In game of predator and prey,
pigeons stream by a block away.
Little flock swirls widdershins
like a smut-devil over flames.
.................
There is no denying
little green seedlings
poking between decaying maple leaves;
and the moss among rotting apples -
a green sheen under dull sky,
under curled boughs
neighborly smug in their buds.
If I'd planted a snowdrop.
I'd have it now
distract me from the bare truth
gulls just
must
mutter overlong.
...........
Walking night avenue,
misted drizzle
puddled in sinks
of tilted slabs
and broken slabs,
dangerously canted,
laked grass verges,
mud-edge spread
(broken country,
mired in neglect),
out in the wrong glasses,
barely sufficient streetlights,
chiaroscuro tunneling
otherworldly boughs,
portals angled over,
peering myopic -
3D platforms,
some sidewalk!
(a Dark City*
deeply untuned)
six pack of cola
fizz to ease
inveterate buzz
for foolish booze.
...................
* by 'Dark City' I refer to the cult film from 1988: American neo-noir sci-fi / fantasy directed by Alex Proyas - influenced the Matrix.
