Beside the broken glass
Through the deserts of blown grass
Without fence or hedgerow
A solitary walker waves me down
Do I know the way he asks
Certain that he has passed this way before
But where are the fields of folk
Where are the farmers workers
I tried to make a laugh
Without thought or purpose
Through the void of explanation
Without doubt, deliverance or benediction
Thanks he said
I’ll be on my way
I may be back again tomorrow
He did not say,
And I for certain did not follow
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| Fury Poems - A short collection Read free on Issuu |