Poetry

Tuesday, 24 November 2015

Wires

Wires

Blackbirds sit on a wire
Gulls on a rooftop do too
Scan the horizon until of it they tire
Return to the Sea Lochside view

Men in chain gangs walk the high street
They are prisoners of the pub-crawl
But are left in the rain to hang on a fence wire
With sad dog tired faces all in a drawl

The buses hug hills like the beetles
Buzz like bees to their stops
With feet stuck full of pollen people
They search another flower head where their pollen they drop

Nature tends towards patterns
People by nature are dots
Someone draws lines between us
Joins us together whether we like it or not

All I see around me are wires
Electrical fences what not
Sometimes the lines are cold frozen
Sometimes they buzz like their hot

We, like the birds, sit on fences that are broken
Watching skylight horizons
It may be but a cheap token

But I like it all the same as if it is not

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