Wednesday, 19 September 2018

We were expected


We were expected earlier than the rain.
The swollen river had snatched the bridge,
crawled a yard out every time the
church bells rang. We hurried and hurried.
We washed up a month later downstream
when the brambles let us go, at last,
when we no longer were expected.
 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Avis sur la chose en question
Feedback on the thing in question

Some days it's hard not to hate myself

  Some days it's hard not to hate myself The constant state of constant failure As if I didn’t take life seriously As if tomorrow didn’t...