A Lifting of Birds

Hard as an empty factory,a sea of glass

eaves brown with rust and first rain

squares of light oblongate through broken panes

as the day creeps, almost a church service

with the soft thrashing of pigeon wings and

shadows across blackened brick

as a oil moon creeps over a battered roof

and a grey steel door bangs an obscure tact

the first cold green starting, newspapers

and plastic bags flattering like shot birds, 

a naked lightbulb swings over an empty chair,

first trace of an evening breeze failing, so

there is little hope here, nothing too much to save

just the idle gathering of soot and distant traffic.

Reviews

[Emily B]

it is a painting, a masterpiece really

[Distant horizons]

Vivid picture your description paints. I like the significance you give to what most would see as an insignificant sight. Really enjoyed this. Thank you.