Tuesday, 17 April 2012


The magnolia’s made a mess on the lawn again.

         It happens every spring.

         I spend April sweeping.

    Those fat white petals won’t skeet with the wind.

    They soak in the rain as though it was gin

And lie soused, kaleidoscoped, about the crooked trunk.

    That magnolia’s nowt but a dandy drunk.

Wynn Wheldon 

No comments:

Post a Comment