Poem of the day – Clouded Angel

Clouded Angel


Slim trimmed wings;

Fragile and fluttered

Skimming breaths of moist air.


Hoist up into stars; trembling in deep space

Wild wind; dust gathering dust

Broken gate hinges squeaking in jammed closing rhythms

Probing traits of reluctance


Jousting with fiends on cross tangled talking telephones.


Stalking under the fire burning bridges

Set alight by bludgeoned personalities

Struck by the street light yellow mist gathering


Shattered in shovel free graves

Done by diggers

Tricked into receiving


To questions


October 2nd 2016

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2016

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