Saturday, 28 October 2017

"Mare's Kiss"

"A bearing few can match turns, wheels,
Rushes up to hang on blue-silver skies,
A call to Davy Jones and away,
Is this how you have seen?

A flash in midday light trapped in city canyons,
Piratical glare, immaculate wings inches from the table tops;
'"I am here! I am here!"
Gusts upon the face bestowing Mare's kiss."

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