Friday 5 May 2017

2 Poems by David Leo

Rain, After

Night, morose
Distilled into silence

Trees, still
Wet having wept

Unsympathetic street lamps expose the naked pavement
Crying to be covered, longing for morning
Feet, paws and dirt

The street, never more solitary
Than in the deep night

Than after the rain
Knowing abandonment

And I, looking out, always sad
Mourning a loss

The Smell of Grass

The smell of grass, freshly shorn
For some a glass of wine
     from the Rhine

Perhaps, Friday at the pub

Me, inebriate
In sweat
In my garden


David Leo has published four books of poetry: Somewhere A Tiny Voice; One Journey, Many Rivers; Identity; Ubin Dreaming (You've Been Dreaming). He also writes fiction.

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