Poem 191 of 230: WEATHERED PIPES…SOMEWHERE? - WINTER 2001/2
As we spun slowly through a warmer winter-night,
Some birds sung sweetly - out of my sight;
And then, finally returned to the waiting Sun,
The turned bathtub-taps soon ceased to run!
(C) David Franks 2003
As we spun slowly through a warmer winter-night,
Some birds sung sweetly - out of my sight;
And then, finally returned to the waiting Sun,
The turned bathtub-taps soon ceased to run!
(C) David Franks 2003
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| Cruddas Park flat, Newcastle;25/9/07 |
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