Slick

1 February 2014

dawn unleashes
her molten hoard

a lucent slick
assailing land

2 snakebirds wrought
from whitby jet

incise its skin
to break their fast

a boat named hope
is coaxed from sleep

she clears her throat
her bilges spit

a shoal of diesel rainbows
spawning in her wake

This entry was posted in 45.0: SILENCE and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related Posts:

Comments are closed.

Please read Cordite's comments policy before joining the discussion.