Sunday, 22 July 2012

Blink

The fish scales have it all,
a camera roll on one.
From a downward swing in golf
to the never ending yawn of death
and a stretch of butter from a honey bird flight,
the lather from fish has it all.
A blink
a tear,
sterile gasps from drowning folk,
the theory blinks of man
are dying in hooked muscles...

©Steven Francis poems 2012

Photobucket

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