July poem

Jul 20th, 2014 | By | Category: Lorna Smithers, Poetry

Poetry for July by Lorna Smithers

 

Solstice Sun Down from Preston Bus Station

 

Old sun sinks

into the bowels of the city

which holds me in its windows,

in panes of light golden as mead.

 

Dusk arrives in a purple cloak,

dresser of towers and spires,

not softening the concrete brutal curves

of this maligned iconic genius

 

whose rawness of might is like a clenched fist,

whose vulnerable underbelly knows the hope

of arrivals and vast pain of final departures,

busking, shrieks and the reek of piss.

 

Yellow and pink the city lights up,

etching its electronic dream on a moving backdrop;

the palimpsest of museums, mills and stadiums

that have fired our consciousness

 

and kept us small and discrete,

a match box car and two tiny figures

lost within a car park’s cosmic changes,

sole witnesses to its theophanies

 

until the arrival of the suicide watch.

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