by Daniel Jones29 Nov 2013
Rose gold on a gossip wind.
trawling lightly on the spin,
pillows plumped upon Roath Park Lake.
Dog, blind and goose – politician.
The small child cocoon shouts ‘go!’
to bed at rock where rock
meets wet meets roast meets shallow
hat-tin, foil and brim.
Stick your oar in, Jones,
Break your bone mannered oaths.
Leave the day unlocked - creaking, hinged upon the gale,
and patter down
feather in the peach-drown light.
I am sick to mothers,
clues, to daughter’s
on a sunday night.