From A Manufactured Perch, Road-Riverside

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

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