Tuesday 30 January 2018

Revolver by Adam Parry

The seagull soars over
the sycamore there.
An unobtrusive moon
circles in eggshell blue
and waits to catch a seagull's eye
or some others passing by or
waiting by a bus stop in a mimicry of summer.

1 comment:

  1. A lovely poem, in a few images, the scene is painted, set, and then, with the last line, other possibilities are drawn out, offered...

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