this peculiar light

early evening paling

thinly clothed,

a charlatan stolen from

this morning’s pocket,

I scowl with disbelief at

the cracked willow

bark framed in blue

juxting with each blink

copper grey, grey copper

back and forth,

I stare intently

to stop blinking,

there it goes again

switch, swap, change

copper grey, grey copper

like someone in...

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on the bus I watch their faces

and wait for them to read line five

it’s the one that’s guaranteed to

draw a reaction of some sort,

a furrowed brow, a double squint

puffed cheeks, a silent expletive

or a look of surprise, then

surreptitiously they might look

around to see if anyone else

is also reading it, it’s the last line

that is the real killer, it leaves

the...

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