narya_flame

I have 100% cribbed this idea from The Guardian, but mine is the lazy version. I'm not planning to do any upfront analysis or thoughtful commentary, though chat in the comments is absolutely welcome and encouraged. I just thought I'd post a poem (or an excerpt from a poem) every Monday evening after work - partly as something to look forward to after my least favourite day of the week, but also partly to encourage me to revisit old favourites, find some new ones, and share them with others who might like them too.

19-9-14

Last night I saw red in the sky's
angry fanfare, fiery waterfalls
belching through black cloud,
my upturned white face
catching cold rays of sun,
my hands in my pockets, blue
& sore from clenching
against thin fists of merciless wind.
Eyes streaming & looking
over to Cumbria, caught between
somewhere neither England,
Scotland or me, I felt
for a second like a tiny
tattered flag, battered & blown
to bits, 'til all that remained
was a ragged hand unclenching,
stretching out fingers to
colour the sunset blue.

(Taken from the collection Border Lines, published by Indigo Dreams. More about the author here.)