Out early and back late the next few days, so I'll catch up with you all mid-week.
Whilst my egocentric self longed to go with the name option, time was not, unlike the song says, on my side. But true to my word I was mulling all week, and as I spend five minutes sat outside in the garden on a regular basis (and you all know why) I was gifted with a windy night last week.
So here's mine, and all the other riders can be found here: http://revolutionaryrevelry.blogspot.com/2010/06/poetry-bus-june-14th-or-sooner.html
Venti
I like the leached night;
my trees talk to me.
Sound-wash soft Rowan
Apple shiver
hard notes of Pear.
Long dead leaves vortex dance,
jagged concrete scrape,
around my cast-iron drainpipe.
But above all
I hear your roar
Jet Stream.
Rushing planet, catching wind,
all is air, tonight.
Excuse the quality of the reading, but it's 2am, I've only just finished the poem and haven't quite worked it out yet.
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