1
A crutch
I hold on
to
a swivel of hope
in
tantalising wind
the flesh summons
and the wind blows
into
skies as luminous
lights spread into
eerie silence.
2
Umbrellas are painted
sticks to ward off
evil and rains
also the encroaching
heat as a stick
is a rejoinder
to what is happening
in sun and sky.
I am not a silent poet 
Reblogged this on reubenwoolley.
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Reblogged this on THE POET BY DAY and commented:
Thanks to Editor/Poet/Activist, Reuben Woolley, for feature four of my poems in “I Am Not a Silent Poet.”
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