The resignation

By Parson Thru

Fri, 05 Apr 2013

1378 reads

4 comments

As I drive away
I watch the sun set
across the bay
Swollen, red and broken
by the cloud
A fitting end, as
in the clubhouse
dismay and awkwardness
are set aside
for the business of the day

The photographer
crouching behind his lens
captures the scene

Comments

You often find a way to draw

Permalink Submitted by scratch on Fri, 2013-04-05 09:12

You often find a way to draw the reader in with a slow zoom as here. Somehow whistful this one.

The whist was coming out of

Permalink Submitted by Parson Thru on Fri, 2013-04-05 13:23

The whist was coming out of my ears, scratch. Thanks mate.

Parson Thru

I was drawn into this poem;

Permalink Submitted by Esther on Fri, 2013-04-05 15:29

I was drawn into this poem; thinking of much that has been lost in our community; including the Working Mens club which is two streets away from me.

I was a card-carrying member

Permalink Submitted by Parson Thru on Fri, 2013-04-05 19:10

I was a card-carrying member for years. Had our wedding do at the Tramways Club. Federation Ale probably drove drinkers into the arms of free enterprise, though. Thanks Esther.