Waka By Will: Chust Some Choka

Choka #1 – Summer Waned

In summer sunlight,
Autumn gestated/beckoned.

Ears out, nostrils flared:
a dog took in the café.

Upon its linked-leash,
it was held and led away.

Summer waned; Autumn beckoned.

Choka #2 – It Lay, Off’ring Still

On Turbo Island:
tattered sofas; cold, grey ash.

Home for those in want,
threatened by development.

It passed its time, from
Easter Island heads and grass

to bare patch of ground,
likely to be claimed and paved.

It lay, off’ring still
a home for those who’re homeless.

Leave it, please, for those in want.

Choka #3 – The Bridge Across The Avon Gorge

A chasm split by
glacier, astride the river

that turns its tide in
great height and great depth between,

the woods awash with
green, on the south and the west,

without abridgment
to the village of Clifton.

T’was a contest held
that drew out the mind-design:

towers of the Nile
Valley, sphinx suspending stone.

Isambard Kingdom Brunel.

Stops ‘n starts ‘n stops;
towers built of unwashed stone

stood alone – the gorge
beneath them, Avon between –

only connected
by a single iron stretch,

along which one could
travel o’er in a basket.

Since Queen Square riots
interrupted first, the bridge

from woods to Clifton
had struggled t’ward completion.

At last, b’yond halfway
through the nineteenth century,

though ne’er adorned by
guard’yuns of Ancient Egypt,

nor washed and painted
as the pillars of Karnak,

opened and crossed was
the Clifton Suspension Bridge.

Now backed by hot air balloons.


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