Distraction and Disguise

Rainbow flames its brief bridge

Of blazing colours across the April sky;

Sharp showers, darts of cold air.

From up here, atop one-time

Old Howe Ridge, long-time ago home,

Site of ancient farm and a school

That educated all and the one

It is impossible to see the distant,

Grey-cloud blanketed city in its role as

Industrialised, scarred prostitute.

Distance and spring rain are

Distraction and disguise.

We travelled between

Historic limes to get here:

An avenue where, much later,

Joyous wights will chance the

Wedding gambler’s dance.

 

Image:twistedsifter.com

Time …

Thunder quietly stirs in

The dark music distances

At the end of the silver day tracks:

The one armed smith and

The eight-legged stormbringer.

A different crew walks the morning desert

Between directions, must be

Getting closer to the time

To visit the city I fear,

To use the words we never said.