Slight
Return
That
same road narrows each time I decide
to
grace its pavements, that constant stain
across
its sky like beer smudged ash, reflects
across
the the oil-slicked puddles that my feet
empty
with each quickening step.
The
cracks along the walls that we are informed
we
pay for on a monthly basis, gradually
expand
with each passing week as the torn,
discarded
parking tickets and rusted cans
rattle
around my feet like miniature hurricanes.
The
local on the corner which I now no longer
have
to sprint pass, my constitution now
immune
to its clientele's daggers. Its crumbling
walls
now stand pitiful, yet now with a warmth
I
begrudgingly decide to accept.
The
breeze as usual remains inconsistent,
allowing
neither flame or plain sailing to
function
without error. Another summer
here
may well allow our bruised toes to peek
over
the edge, but once again I lack an excuse
to
leave.
Jonathan Butcher
Jonathan
Butcher has had work appear in various publications both online and in print
including: Outlaw Poetry, Drunk Monkeys, Picaroon Poetry, Popshot, The
Transnational, The Morning Star, Ink, Sweat &Tears, Plastic Futures and
others. His second chapbook 'Broken Slates' was published by Flutter Press. He
lives in Sheffield, England.
Tags:
Poetry