#498 (a swallow, searching Saturday)


and full of hubris

as if I could choose

what to write about,

searching for a feather

instead I’m being pummeled

by leaden curtains,

the concrete suffocating

my swallow smiles

while I am trotting along

forgotten paths

of this strange town,

it must be home

but why do I

feel the need

to wake up again?

and then I found it

sailing down from

the rooftops, greyish,

soft, a faint plume

leading my way

to the holy grail or

at least its substitute

for a lack of temporal

vortexes  I grabbed

an orange cup filled

with a fine blend

just a little sour

just a little white

to brighten up,

swarming wasps

safeguarding the

local’s treasures

through plenty

of  compund



© Matthias Grupe, 11th August 2018

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.