A picture of a long gone world
Stood at the top of the long world
lighthouse at my feet
chalk cliffs plummeting into the grasp of the relentless
Aspidochelone in the depths
the gorse leaning towards life at 45°
rainbows plucked from other hemispheres
chalk cliffs plummeting into the grasp of the relentless
Aspidochelone in the depths
the gorse leaning towards life at 45°
rainbows plucked from other hemispheres
words shimmer in the refracted/reflected light
the steam rises from the Cappuccino machine
plumes of Marlboro smoke emerge and merge
a huddle of young poets sit
amazed and deranged in the hurly-burly hours of a weekday morning
the haunted shadows of deep night erased by the golden cacophony of sunrise
the book is held open and the words are shared...
... there are others out there, we are not alone.
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