Community post
The Lock
A barren lock sits
quiet as the distant hum
of cars. The A road
is less busy at the end
of the day, I'm at junction
fourteen hanging on
for dear life. A fuse
had smouldered for many years
and now it's ready
to go off. I park
and wait, wait.
Replies (2)
what a tremendously powerful poem.
there is a sense of brooding, pent, emotion which may or may not be about to explode.
Stuart - thank you so much for your comment. Three haiku and a couplet. My attempt at brevity.