Red-lit word TRIBUNE
fenced around a building top—
north, east, south, and west
A wet black scarf left
on the rainy black asphalt—
like a flat drowned rat
In an orange vest,
a black man strolls home from work,
white hard hat in hand
*
Flapping burst of grey
swoops over wet black asphalt—
pigeons in the gloom
Wind-blown lake of rain—
each ripple jostles the gulls
that float like a fleet
Through a pavement crack
a tuft of yellow flowers
quivers in the breeze
.
Writings by Thomas Radwick. Mostly poetry and lyrics. t_radwick@yahoo.com
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Crack in the Ceiling
Poetry by Thomas Radwick
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