Stud lawns and gardens, railway cuttings,
scraps of sandy ground and pavement cracks-
sunspits shining like a furnace fire
through shattered concrete, coils of rusty wire.

Theyʼre dead within a week, their embers cold
and turned to balls of ash,and yet
each grey seed lodges somewhere out of sight,
lies snug all winter, waiting to ignite.


Quantum Theory for Cats

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.