Wisps of day
Filter out the darkness
Chilling the tear-burns
To his empty face
Dry-lipped
And oasis-eyed
Crushed foetal
By the e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-n-e-s-s
Soul-tied
© Mel Lampro
Wisps of day
Filter out the darkness
Chilling the tear-burns
To his empty face
Dry-lipped
And oasis-eyed
Crushed foetal
By the e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-n-e-s-s
Soul-tied
© Mel Lampro
There’s something happening in Winter Street
The caged garden springs in revolt
Against the concrete and the season.
Fireworks celebrate
Through a greenish sky
Their audible colours stifle the thrum of an August city
My eyes gasp and my mind applauds
Reminding me that it has been
Almost a year
And everything is still
Topsy-turvy
© Mel Lampro