Of Several Miles
Once the pounding rain had made its name and begun to wane against the day, I took in a stride of several miles, six stiles a breadth of fruiting blackthorn and the stalking call of crows and jackdaws. The scent of the rain stayed chained to the sun splayed day and as I made my way thought swathes of un-grazed grassen meadow I met a fellow with some home grown rhetoric in tow; And so he spake of great stories and flawless glories fought as pencil revolutions; lead prophesies of gung-ho teens with tattoos in their Reebok shoes. He claimed a foresight for a simmering civil war; the baseball capped class’ day was rightfully due, it’ll come for me, it’ll come for you; On the flip of the coin, of which side do you care to join?
Date: 28-11-2016