Posts
West of the westerly rising
pillar of heat in our midst
off toward a far shore crashing
dashing dust devils to bits
Hung on a past wind back flapping
Slowed to a soundtrack in the background
Rewound upon the branches
Caught on magnetic tape
Stunned into remembering the trenches
Getting knocked into them and stumbling out
Structures crumbling beneath the park benches
Bolted to a small plot of land encased in asphalt
(to be cont. who knows
it could be that something
comes of it, long term while
the hours wither away on a cob
web strand broken off and flying
into the gradually awakening wind)
