A View From Here

TRICYCLES ride the verses of a failing nation like a chariot of locust locked in an hour glass
Dusk fleeing the dusty skies of Bozo
Spurt fumes of terror over a motherland
Cocooned in the bowels of abandoned warehouses
Five prayers and a vigil, guests of the ozone

Mood light slices
In a sauce of phantom MEMORIES of good old days
Plopping from a rusty chandelier of promises
By public clowns who conspire to strip the vault
And bury their crestfallen compatriots in 666 feet of grief

A window drifts ajar
Sneaks in fragrance of meadow
With the tender hugs of hope
Cuddly nightfall beckons heavenly comforters
Butterflies flutter
Fireflies saunter
The storm has consumed itself

Or so we thought?

This poem is a class assignment for an ongoing University of Reading A-level Study Boost: Unseen Poetry and the Creative Process.

About author
Publisher and Editor-in-Chief, Newspackng.
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