Saturday, 16 January 2010

PASSING BY.

Every town hour,
And street minute,
And house second
A spirit sheds its skin
And prepares to appeal;
Each home has a soul of its own
These days to witness hereafter,
Verify the past and represent the present.

1 comment:

  1. Yes! I can't eat a whole box of chocolates in one sitting or one week for that matter. Seems like each poem I glance at is fucking excellent. Impressive, Ian. Walking down a staircase of words. An organic word entity, this tight little verbal construction has a life of its own. Get it off your chest, please. Thanks

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