Bus Stop Purgatory
All is the rain,drenching
Bathing my bones
In icy dampness,
Wretchness compounded.
Dripping Leylandi frantically,
Conceive muddy pools.
Uncaring traffic
With dim melancholy lights
Skult on by,obedient.
All the world is foreboding
Apprehension suspended
In the swollen air,Negative ions
With primitive hands,tries to seduce
All is the rain,
I remember
Lying on sand
Idly caressing your thigh,
As we watched
The surfers skimming along
On glorious waves.
Copyright © Paul Martin | Year Posted 2017
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