A Golden Cross

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

There is a medium wave
interference around me
off roost-massing rooks

This county hums and emits
Even our sunsets hiss –
dipped slow into copper pots

My westerly siphon of hedges
should be muttering
but it has been a while –

our native small birds
have been lost for good
Their calls have no place

Mike Bell Poetry

Mike Bell aims to write 10,000 poems, stick them up here one at a time, and then take a nap. By then he should be about 85 years old and have out-gunned PD, dementia, and the end of days. Possibly. Before the floods and fires. Mike Bell is found working for money as a freelance set designer.

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