Brume

brume (1)

 

 

 

I woke to brume

birdsong, Bob Marley

 

I dance in the kitchen

remember reggae nights.

 

You want fire? Fire in

a belly full of life?

 

I’ve skirted round

the issue, run for

 

no man’s land of

non-committal

 

I wake to brume

spring is on hold

 

buried a kilometre

down in ground fire:

 

my walls are lined with

maps that lead

 

to bright empty beaches

where only dolphins leap,

 

I wake to brume

& reach for you.

 

To listen to poem click here

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.