Tuesday, 20 April 2010

Arucis church

A church with shabby overcoat;

made of breezeblock, cinder-faced and grey.

Barred and locked.

Locked and barred.

Litter bins around are empty

and butterflies sustain themselves by

floating to a tree, then a bush;

creating, probing, fluttering.

Me, I pray for sleep, bored,

while, southerly, a clutch of concrete mixers churn

and nearby little finches sing and flitter round. Thank the Lord.

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