Tag: lewes

After Needlewriters

I turned my back on the bleached
slice of moon, that ancient stalker,
over bright, (still impossible for
smart-phone or trite word capture).

Lewes fidgeted, early to bed, ill-lit
by the the old devil overhead,
cut by earth's shadow,
incapable of glazing cobblestones

There was that end . . .

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Rise

She is slow - the River Ouse -
running muddied below Lewes -
there a capricious millpond -
but when she swells

under storms - off streams
Bevern and Northend
and the quick River Uck -
she reverts to ancient freshet -

swift to rise to redress
the forgotten flood meadows
now supplanted by tarmac -
She rushes . . .

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Warehouse Lad

This is a return to hell,
sitting in a warehouse
of soft-play constructions,
and other people's kids,
re-fueled by sweet drinks,

and me, here, trapped,
in seating which complained
under my current weight,
sofas impossible for a man
to rise from with any style.

Another dad, rather . . .

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