Wednesday, 5 October 2011

The End of Summer (IV)

Coastlines and Arcades
turn grey
and shutters on gates
dangle in the wind
like clapping hands.

Leaves carry themselves
across the road
like they are mourners
looking for a funeral,

until the nights and days
sink into one
making it appear
that nothing will rise above
the tip of the horizon.


Nothing but the coldness
of the air
which makes the kiss
of young lovers 
in the distance 
seem like 
a necessarily sacrifice. 

No comments:

Post a Comment