Thursday, 6 November 2008

Arthur's seat II

Ash sent me our poem:

And with swaying grasses atop Arthur’s Seat, we saw the sky become the sea.
The ripples below crawled away from us, the sun-rays dipped over the clouds towards us.
Clouds that hung like abandoned matte backdrops,
Tiny trees and trails of rooftops.
We saw the sun rays retire behind the Doric columns,
And felt the wind cut through our clothes, and in particular the rip in my jeans over the knee.
It felt like stuff was going to be ok. It felt like home.
And distant melodies pounced on our poem.


(I think I wrote the 2nd, 4th, 6th and 8th lines...)

2 comments:

hermit crab said...

get it published!

onar said...

get it on the magazine!!