Mouse skeleton
So quietly, decorously
in the tide of dust,
the moment of grace
untied what you so nervously
embodied. Unbodied solo
under festoons of webs,
among stoor and heads
of wasps, and their burst bike's halo.
You left just your inner shell,
a rack of suggestion,
delicate pedestal
on which to set this world running pell-mell.
Jason Watts lives on the Isle of Arran and works as a builder’s labourer.
Page(s) 27
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