Thursday, November 29, 2012

Beginning, middle

It was through the window of his car
with the heat turned to red
that he saw the town that November morning.
Cold air clung to grass,
undisturbed since night time,
the sky a blue that exists only in Winter.
He saw five boats on the sea
and imagined each filled with people
he hadn't met
whilst an old folk song on the radio
told him about a man and a camera
on a Grecian Isle.

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