Thursday, 6 December 2012

Day Six: 'Hollingworth Lake' by Winston Plowes

Hollingworth Lake
Laughing behind our backs
gulls jag from blind spots.
Like sweet wrappers
stuck to the fingers
of frantically flapping hands.
Turning themselves
inside out for crusts on the wind.
Flung by the windmilling arms
of giddy kids in the last
throws of summer hols.
Occasionally one twists off
And away –
Its kite string cut,
lost to the purpling moors.
grateful of a cheap activity
rue the cost of uniforms.
Winston Plowes

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