derelict with a wooden bible
derelict with a wooden biblecarved from the back
of ordinary waves rolling in December
stranded knee deep in cold silt
fraught with one way streets
like a head full of wild hair
streamlined wired and water piped
he is just another shadow
dancing with old bones pending
in a night of slow fireworks
surprised by unending water
swirling like a pack of swans
just above your head
it is the night of both hands
the moment of counting
all you can perceive
danced scrutinized and alive
you find your welcome done
at the far end of the table
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2016-12-11 at 23:31
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by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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