as if through some forgotten fault
a rugged asbestos spire purports
unappointedly above its urban parapet:
this is the inauspicious bishopric
that deconsecrated your wing
and disarmed your prayer
internally, your landing gear regressed
and your wing-tips dimmed as gently
as the sundown of a pilot’s eye:
dreaming elevators being lately unexercised
with inevitable time the creeping ivy awakens
and the lichen clamours for quiescence
look – the provost 88
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beautiful imagery.
Creative, very well crafted!
Greetings! How is your weekend?
I am Blaga from Jingle Poetry : http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/
You are invited to join us this Sunday for our Monday Poetry Potluck Week 19, we are open 8pm, American Central, will remain open for 72 hours, yet, you get better traffic when you link in early.
if you fall short writing a theme related piece, feel free to share 1 to 3 old poems…Best Regards.
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Week 19 Theme: Rules, regulations, and laws!