The time-frozen, concrete waves
of the surface of the road-kept island
crest with green ‘n break upon the
soled shoes of the dancer in the
neon-vest.
He spoke to me,
as we queued in the café
on the river bank.
The fire of the dragon’s
protest-flame marks only
its self ‘n message.
The riv’ring road is calm;
undanced’s the island.
Image credit – Bristol 24/7
william altoft 