Thursday, 10 January 2013

Sour Green


10th January 2013


That dog
still barking in the night
wailing
at intervals
scratching the screen of fog in the air
like fingernails 
scoring the glass of my heart.



Is she locked out,
tied up 
in someone’s garden
on a concrete floored cage?


Cruel. Should I do something 
when it’s daylight?

What is that insistant
other knocking 
I won’t listen to?

Why am I locking myself out of my blog
with the sour green key
of comparison
thinking I have nothing to say?

Wailing 
in the night 
on my own deaf ears.








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