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

Comments

nn 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!

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