The New Zealand Poetry Social Network
Peter Christopher James Keane has not received any gifts yet
Rays of autumnal sun
Splash gold
On the underbelly of the morning’s
First jet
A dead starling ushers in
Approaching vehicles
Wing saluting
In their wake
Armco walled corridors
Arteries clogged with corpuscled cars
Lub dubbing journeys
Slowing, stopping
Slowing, stopping
Bitumened fingers
Reach into the city
Surrounding …
ContinuePosted on February 6, 2012 at 8:30
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