Tag Archives: dust
An old machineresting theremade of bits and pieces;whatever happened to be spareof water, earth and fire and air. An old machineconnected to the mains,switched on, is conscious of its pains. Switched off, inert,it does not know its ending;lies in the … Continue reading
Poems are diamonds,everywhereembedded in living rock.You see themyou dig them outyou polish them. (Sometimes you don’t see them.) Polish them too much,they break into fragments,blow away,a handful of dust. (Each mote of which is a diamond.) .
The scent of the rosefades in the dry airand the roses themselvesshrivel and fall. The Rose Garden toosuccumbs to the developerand his high-rise flatswhich brush against the sky. Red bricks give wayto changing architectural fashionor a motorwayor a bomb. And … Continue reading