Words Under Pressure #16

Today, it’s words, not pictures.  Everything else is half finished, so I don’t want to show it.

18,000 Miles

After dust, dirt, clamour and stress,
To lie flat in clean white sheets
In dawn’s pearl light, and hear
A strange bird sing, bell-toned.

After grinding traffic, fumes and smoke,
To sit relaxed in early morning calm
With eyes closed against warm sun
And smell the scent of gums.

After danger, threat, fear and and anger,
To walk a quiet twilight street alone
Past lamplit, peaceful windows and
Possums playing on the roof.

After grey and grime and bitter earth,
To bury my hands in young, rich soil
And watch astonished as
The Bird of Paradise flowers, triumphant.

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5 thoughts on “Words Under Pressure #16

  1. tialys says:

    Blimey! Where did you live before?

  2. tialys says:

    Aaaah! I understand. I lived there for the first 3 years of my life. Then Streatham. Then my parents moved to Surrey but I moved back to Stockwell for a little while before ending up in Sussex – and now France.

    • katechiconi says:

      So we’ve had the same stomping ground… I walked home alone during the Brixton riots in the 1980s, I’ve lived in buildings that shook with the traffic passing, and have fallen asleep to the distant wail of sirens more nights than I care to remember. What I have now is better!

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