Butcher Son

A thick sea curdles as,
from within
the steel,
a bladed sea of calls
cranes
and lifts,
out
across mud,
up walls,
to the curtained ear.

His white coat spattered
with blood dawn tears.

A flinching twist,
the waking kiss of conscience sifts
thoughts through a cratered skull.

He pulls the blankets closer still.

Startled birds scream;
gristled cogs spin
morning through the yard.

IOB 2013

20130813-193049.jpg

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About midasinreverse

I am a writer and teacher, living in Manchester, UK. I use this blog to share thoughts, poems, photos, etc. Life is incredibly short: we should share our experiences.
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One Response to Butcher Son

  1. Suzy says:

    Love the imagery!

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