Saturday, 3 December 2011

Lucky Heather

It’s cold inside the car
and there’s a piece of lucky
heather blue-tacked
to the dashboard.

His trousers are creased.
His shoes scuffed, the laces untied.
He runs his finger through
the dust on the dashboard.

The sun is going down.
He can see it through
the smears on the windscreen.

As it goes down
he thinks about how
she’s out there somewhere,
seeing the same sun
and breathing the same air.

3 comments:

  1. this is such a good and bad morning combined
    to read this beautiful piece.

    thank you.

    ~robert

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks Robert. And good luck go with you...

    ReplyDelete
  3. there is no reason to follow here
    but there is another side.

    http://afourletteroutburst.blogspot.com/

    thank you.

    ~robert

    ReplyDelete

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