Saturday, October 24, 2009

THE QUADRANGLE

A QUADRANGLE
A rectangle of asphalt
A rectangle of sky
Clouds frozen against blue
A quadrangle of faces
A quadrangle of innocence
A small girl's plump cheeks
A little boy on air guitar
***
Bemused faces round the quadrangle
Legs crossed on the ground
A moment in time:
Contained, sweet and frozen
The air, the youth the containment
- A moment in time
***
The guitar plucked, picked and poignant
A rising ache in the quadrangle
A rising promise in the quadrangle
A soaring above the asphalt
Beyond the brick walls
An aching, a yearning
Flamenco held time
***
What if the last time...
What if the last memory...
What if the last vision...
What if the last taste...
Of sweet human kind

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