Shuffle of White Wings.

Fighting cold, fighting cramp,

Seeking shelter in the back of

A windowless morning cold car.

Greedily shovelling yesterday’s grease

Into a care-starved face;

Needing to put bread into a

Bank called tomorrow –

The one she didn’t believe in,

The one that grew too close,

Too damned fast.

She is aware of the shuffle

Of clean white wings,

But can’t decide:

Is it an angel calling?

Dead-eye, black head gull?

Or her gone-gone baby?

12/2/2013

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4 thoughts on “Shuffle of White Wings.

  1. This is powerful and moving.

  2. Beautiful! Thank you for sharing. Regards, Paul

  3. beeseeker says:

    Thank you both for your encouragement, much appreciated.

  4. wisejourney says:

    needing to put bread into a

    Bank called tomorrow – my favourite line

    and gosh.! ..the second moving poem I have read on blogs I enjoy this morning…is it something about this ice cold outside and the desire for warmth.

    May tomorrow be warmer in every way for us all

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