Comments Inbox
| |
Tin Roof Cradles
Adrift on orange moons
and all-night garbage lullabies,
a mangrove cuckoo croons
her dock-blue reggae,
small mockery
of a streetwise cockerel
crowing his free-range love
in midnight lanes.
Sweet pandemonium is the
wrong side of sundown;
no island for quiet men,
this, a silence drowned
by alley wars,
the feline mimicry of
babes that cry 'murder'
by moonlight,
gypsy birds in foul streets,
strutting shameless
with moon-hatch chicks
under cool, indifferent stars.
Palm-shook rock stars
exact a toll on dreamers,
restless under clammy sheets
as far above, the giants
loose their tenuous hold,
wind-whipped crash and roll
of coconuts - freed
to shatter night - to
rock these tin-roof cradles
in the dark.
|
|
|