Ruddy sun has left me cold,
sits awhile in the apples and pears*
first leg up her steep air-risers,
(where she golds down here
she will pink up there)
she'll set with a wink,
on the brink,
to slink-sink
by roll of wheel
and shoulder of road,
beautiful clockwork illusion,
curved by relativity,
bubbled by quantum foam,
Baby's yet to learn;
and where has Granddad gone?
...................................
*Actually I only have one pear tree - but poetic licence. :)
YOU ARE READING
Bare Shouldered
Poetry"The difference of high Sensations with and without knowledge appears to me this - in the latter case we are falling continually ten thousand fathoms deep and being blown up again without wings and with all [the] horror of a bare shouldered Creature...
