Falling

Cherry

By alexwritings

Sun, 05 Aug 2012
  • 1791 reads
8 comments
 

Falling

 

 

It starts
With me not necessarily realising
I’ve remembered your name
Quicker than the rest. 

Words
That wring colour
From grey –
A post-industrial dockland

By moonlight. And I
Whose semi-unpacked youth
Resides
Behind the gritted teeth

Of my flies
Realise,
With the tender thump of a summer shower,
That I've thought of you

one-too-many times

In the last hour.

Certificate 12
Story
Space for milk?
Other Fiction

Comments

Submitted by Parson Thru on
I love this galeforce. gritted teeth of my flies - where did that come from? Brilliant! Captures a lot in a few words. Nice one.

Parson Thru

Submitted by alexwritings on
Thanks, Parson! Appreciate the comment :) Alex

 

Submitted by alexwritings on
"Tones" of some sort I guess. I just remember a couple of months back liking the phrase "gritted teeth of his flies" to describe a guy's pent-up/"jailed" sexuality and wanted to find a narrative to crowbar it into. Thanks for the comment!

 

Submitted by alex_tomlin on
Some great imagery and an effectively understated last line.

Submitted by Shannan on
Very clever... and it's not only boys who think of a name FAR too much in one hour ;-) I like!

 

Submitted by shoe on
'the tender thump of a summer shower,' so that's what it feels like!!! Lovely poem.

 

Submitted by Highhat on
"words that wring colour from grey..." what a brilliant line. A lot packed into these few lines.. I liked it very much ;)Pia

Submitted by alexwritings on
thank you, all :) Alex