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a poem by et cetera

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Brick Red - by Avi Bram

by et cetera

When this town was brick red and coal black, Everything had its purpose Nothing escaped being useful. Mud brown spread over it, house by house \'Til all were stained as evenly as a row of dirty teeth. Now the houses prop each other up Young trees stretch towards the skies from the top floor of the mill. In the lockkeeper\'s garden a rowing boat is chained down. Filled with earth it waits for Spring for its use: a flower box.

Notes:

for The Road Less Travelled issue

Posted: 5th June 2010
Words: 73
Viewed: 25 times
Comments: 0

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