Nothing conveys a raw day
Like leafless twigs juddering
As if shivering in wind.
Nothing touches a raw nerve
Like suggesting you were born
To stupidity and shame.
Nothing soothes a worn raw mind
Like a world without people
Sprawled quietly in the sun.
Nothing’s ever raw nothing,
However, just the framed set
Where raw nothing’s imagined.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.