Terraces

terra forma workshops
are our sunken timeless homes
and the land that sparks
the summer
is a fireball to own
we grow like sapling
buckets
and anger to the days
that are overlong and
fearsome, but still they let
us play
galvanise the reptile
wanting to
desecrate our sacred ground
it’s against the cold hard plaster
my palms just
pound and pound
make weight
go skyward
daily
in plumes of
gold and grey
and make each silent moment
the precipice of play

One thought on “Terraces

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