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Post by john watts on Dec 3, 2014 14:45:01 GMT
Autumn nightfall
Dark clouds hang in the heavy sky.
Cold winter time is bearing down.
The grey of dusk now comes too soon
as creeping mist invades the town.
Clawed by masts and skeletal forms
the crowns of buildings underneath
are islands breaking from this sea
like sentinels or snaggleteeth.
Where wind has taken all their leaves
the trees stand true as fractal sprays,
there is no cover now at all
for Squirrels making last forays.
Paths are strewn, a soughing joy
for those who run but stop to seek
the echoed scents of summer past
and conker nuts of silken teak.
A factory winds a mournful sound
yet greeted well by those within.
Then from afar an aircraft drones
beaming up crowds to sun and sin.
Climbing over the grey stacked cloud
It catches the last of this day's light
speeding to dreams of sunnier climes
a man made needle flashing bright.
As darkness cloaks deserted streets
each of them lit , because we can;
we deny a world beyond ourselves
by hiding Life's beneficence to man.
The greatest sight that all should see
starred space aspiring to transcend
and give rebalance to a world
of earthly woes too close to mend.
JW 2 12 14
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Post by kayqt on Dec 3, 2014 15:56:49 GMT
Beautiful, John. Favourite lines: the buildings as islands in a sea, like sentinels or snaggleteeth / conker nuts of silken teak / the airplane as a man-made needle. I love seeing the stars, so your last verse has particular resonance for me.
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