Detached Living
by P.J.Reed
Detached, aloof in
Red bricked splendour,
Roof tiles sat in
Frowning rows and
Watched with stony stares.
The chimney pot
Refused to smoke.
In a haze of purple velour
Bay windows shut their eyes;
While greying garden statues
Slowly turned away.
Golden leaves floated,
Whispering softly to
A wandering, wintry breeze.
The white gate screamed
On bleeding hinges;
Moaning to the wind.
And the robin flew away
And I was left outside, alone,
The dog, my child
And me.
Copyright ©: P.J.Reed
End of the poem
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Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
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