London Fog

By lupus tenebrae

 



The silence rocked by
strange whines
of metallic bones,
The gentle gossamer tarp,
quaking, flapping
like loose lips
and molting feathers.

Through the London fog,
I saw nothing
but waves of imagination,
and castles
assembled with pebbles
and arching cranes.

Imagination,
the word  takes me back
to a time when graphite,
had something in common
with my eyes, ears, and mind.

I looked through
my cinderblock glasses,
my pumice periscope,
and saw nothing but trees,
and I couldn’t hear them

talking… 

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2012 lupus tenebrae
Published on Monday, August 13, 2012.     Filed under: "Poetry"

Author's Note:

I wish I could knock them out of the park again, but for now, I guess a bunt is all right...
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Comments on "London Fog"

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  • TropicalSnowstorm On Monday, October 13, 2014, TropicalSnowstorm (1835)By person wrote:

    Holy cow, this is amazing! I love the whimsical nature of it, and the closing line is a perfect end to this piece. Especially loved the portions about the "cinderblock glasses" and "pumice periscope" - what a great mental picture that creates for me! Ciao, T/S Scholar

  • A former member wrote: Maladroit said it, brother. Your imagery is always at the highest level and you never fail to spark some sort of inspiration in me. Well done, as always. Scholar

  • River Lily On Monday, August 13, 2012, River Lily (1162)By person wrote:

    This was an amazing write..full of dream like imagery. What amazing place your imagination carries you. Scholar

  • Maladroit On Monday, August 13, 2012, Maladroit (298)By person wrote:

    You do amazing things for my imagination and consistently raise the bar for imagery, thanks.

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