the stateless shadow
creeps beyond the vine
its bitter repast representing
near misses fired into winds
of questing angels their dogged
determination springs from
hollow horns into sunshine plays
dissected from every view point
in passion fringes of retribution
curled into the fashion curt in
sliced soundbites etched torywise
into a shame of classic cuts
bruising hollow the ledger is castigated
bringing blackened memories of coal strikes
soften weeks of marching breath
the soul returns as yet unclean.
Clive Gresswell
.