Poem in a bottle


Could flash across
, a blink of a

In hand before
you’ll finish that

The instant world

A quick response
, satisfies your

before the shell returns,

So no,
I’ll pause
for thoughts

Place those gathered, slowly
in a bottle, glass
No more plastics
, pollute the sharks

to the murky soup below
throw hard from the pier
a hundred years or so
on some far off beach,
by the Tasman Sea
when I’m gone, long,
my thought
still bobbing along
for the one,

Young bronze, torso bare
wild, flowing hair, a discreet
tattoo, delicate touch, showing
just a hint,
sliced his toe
on my shipwrecked lines
the curse, undeserved
But I’m sorry nonetheless
for the rock,
that changed my complex
muse to mush

If you’d like to find out a bit more about this poem, click the link to the page “Explained” which shines a light on the background to each poem, or helps you to understand what the heck’s going on if you’re a bit baffled!

By cyncoed

Old & Welsh

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