Memories of a Lost Child

Spring shuffles outside teasing ferns
valley scattered with confetti sheep
crisp air cold as a filleting knife
tops speckles high blue cold

a hut squats corrugated iron basking
beneath grey quarry mouth wide
distant pylons fencing my home
as whinberries dream of fruit I will never see.

– Benjamin F Jones

About Graphite Bunny

I am a writer working in South Wales (UK). I love pizza, photography and moist clay. When it rains I catch drops in my open mouth. I create poetry, flash, absurdist snapshots and humorous fiction.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Memories of a Lost Child

  1. It sounds wonderful where you are, in a wild way. I once saw some sheep from an aeroplane – they looked more like maggots from high up, rather than your more romantic confetti. I definitely prefer your image of them.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s