Small square

 

Through two small square

factory-made eyes 

Life is blowing 

in red, green and gold 

Sky
playing sky 

Cloud clowns 

on a bluesy stage 

Power pylons 

stiff with strength

Stood like conductors 

Flinging inky chords

through a windy symphony - 

To my walls  

Bringing the outside in; 

taking the inside out

While the world blows and bends,

in here contends - with
The night’s late show, 

the morning’s early squash 

As all around brews

A storm of its own making  

Paper, ink and imagery -
half baking.