You snuffed out your cigarette

With a cruel stamp

Of your twisted foot.

The ash spilled out,

Out into silence

Where air and sweat

Mingled with the dying light.


A rooftop rendezvous

Punctuated by splash,

on splash,

of bold paint.

Royal blue, through red,

to deepest purple.

A solar canvas,

Bruised and battered,
ready for sleep.


A seance, or a wake.

We watched and mourned,

As light lay spread,

like Prometheus,

presenting his liver for the taking.

Soon it would scatter and flee,

Running for the hills.


We watched from our roof,

Stood like seagulls.

At the edge.

Waiting for life

to begin

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *