Monday, December 12, 2011

Austin McCarron

A City of Palms

The summer is eating
the colours in my room
with teeth of blue water.

The sea falls on my beach
stones of light. My blood is

amazed at the whiteness of

Birds drowse in shining trees.

The sky is on fire with matches
of gold
and like a visionary animal
it wrestles with some great hurt.

I sit at a loss, in a city of
palms, browner than faces of rain.

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