Slow and Low

crowds of words force
their fury through
the picket

in beeline to the front,
a stink for

then out the mouth
they fly..

off to point and jeer
at another street

or to seek out and cheer on
weeds in growth,
in need?

who knows..

but i do love the sting
of breeze you

when you whisper
my name..

low and

Grumpy Gorman

image by Aslan Ünsal at –

..then once more.

3 thoughts on “Slow and Low

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