~at the end of the road~
~ while gulls turned pink in the morning sky~ a pigeon turned pink in the tree
from the side of the field the pigeon could see what was turning him pink~
and things over there to gold ~
even the air~
falling apart
abandoned
broken
barbed
chained
neglected
useless
to be ripped apart
thrown into a skip
and swapped for another
tomorrow
that’s enough said
about some old greenhouse
~requiescat in pace~