Summer Ynyshir

Black and brown mongrel to heel on a cracked leather lead crossing fur damp footbridge in drizzle sunshine the valley’s shoulders hunched around the bus stop lush green laps at terraced backdoors pigeons sweep circles through a scarf of clouds blue checked cooks in the Municipal Kitchen’s garage plastic chairs in an arc steaming tea and cigarettes white water gushing fingers down the mountain blast sunshine on the chip shop’s closed shutters crude shop fronts scattered among terraced houses yesterday’s bin bags queued down the high street a man levers himself into the pharmacist short jam turning right by Station Hotel four pouting faces park outside the shop blocking traffic with open doors and loud drinkers clink onto incandescent pavement a crowd surrounds agitated faces lager spilled by angry gesticulation street lamps pool orange in heat ice stars rest on the valley’s lip behind the radio mast the moon rises.

– Benjamin F Jones
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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.
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