by grimbeau

A woman crossing a stile after the flooding in the Thames Valley, December 1915


Galactic dawn,

wet as water:

Ponds ’r’ Us!

Like a mucky duck

the weatherman

walks on warm, thin ice,

looking up anxiously



serene green scene

creams obscene

at tulips pouting,

kind epileptic fish,

sanguine potholed saucepans

latterday Saturday vertebrae.

Endless list: catalyst.


We swoon,

shrug it off,



turnover leaves