Full moon over Walkley
You wondered why there was a lack of trust,
why there was disinterest.
Defining us as clients and consumers
as you looked down from your guilded, lawyer’s lofty height.
So I walked home with a bristling tread and saw
clouds, burnt umber striped and defiant
above gated city’s crystallised lights.
I saw shock of full moon
and cried look up you citizens, break out.
Image courtesy of Steve F via Wikimedia Commons
World Poetry Day
- Read Ian McMillan’s poem “Thinking of String“
- Professor Matt Flinders’ new blog “Shake your chains: Politics, poetry and protest“