Two Poems
by Ken Simpson Rearranged Days Silence inside a train is the only sound of life outside. Along a road a melody grows flirting with the countryside. The river wide and turgid flows to a relentless rhythm. Sometimes a flute plays to the rays of sunshine and whispering winds. Clouds swell in a darkening sky to the groans of a sombre trombone. Inside listen to the rain and watch it slash at the window panes. Inspiration Ideas sprout like mushrooms after rain fading as echoes that merge as memories or thoughts thriving and twitching like leaves before they decompose in someone's else's clothes. |
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