Mr Ragged 2024

Mr Ragged 2024 The unsteady slow winter moon, trudges towards a freezing night; riding on winds back,of shadows feint, blowing out the days diminishing light, It is ! A pencil sketch in many pleasant hues sharp strapped; as a barbers razor, lined out,in a distant vanish point, cloudless,pained in a subdued flavour, Oh yes! Wood pigeons pair for the chill; it comes! Clocks are sleepy now many unwound, all along the water spilled fountain; the sparrows thirst sip for a familiar sound. Then ! The street seems to carpet up its cobbles, It narrows; and tunnels into fast black, bully boy cats prowl; and growl all clawed, local dog snoozes, it snores on its bed of sack. There on - a lonely street corner cardboard damped, barley lit; Is home once again to Mr ragged, chatting in an alcohol tongue; a dialect to rats, brittle veined, slow flowed, pave stone padded, Soon ! Morning seeps in; spilling quite secondhand, It slept long and sexed; under voyaged stars, not fit for purpose! It breaks over a penciled hill, 49th street corner bustles, Mr ragged lies very still. Some cry