
a baby cries
like a brokencooling
lava crust
the earth
beneath
is
black broken
by the light
and heat
of cities towns
and other
human forms
while
up by me
the flish flash lights
of passing planes
skit scatter
threads of light
in the pressurised pencil
of my plane
I rest my head
and wonder
what if the light
went out
and darkness
roamed the earth
could God
be bothered
again
behind me
a baby
cries
Poetry by Peter Humphreys

Read 935 times
Written on 2007-07-29 at 19:47




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