Rusty-red

In the centre of space, lost
in noisy narrow streets
Escapes with the cool wind
strokes an icy stream of water
Only to get lost
in massive iron construction
Falls under the wheels of speeding cars
brought to the limit of endurance
overwhelmed by concrete blocks
At the same time, it stops and admires
In the comfort of the trees
catches the first breath of life
Slowly emerging, crossing the border
to see what he couldn’t see
feel what he didn’t feel
hear what he was deaf to
Circled like a falcon, grabbing every detail
Swirled in the midst of infinite beauty

© W. Donovan

Dears, this poem features in my second volume of poems which is out next week!

4 thoughts on “Rusty-red

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