Wednesday, 30 April 2008

End terraces inherit the promise
to metamorphose into villas
- five, six bedrooms even -
painted blossom pink, canary
yellow. A balcony for summer
beers, in April, & the magic is this:
whilst still residing at the same address
the view adjacent is discernibly redbrick

1 comment:

May said...

I enjoyed this poem quite a bit. The word "terrace", in particular, brought back to my mind memories of a long time ago.
Thank you!