Walking through the drizzle

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Walking through the drizzle

When cloud presses down

Tangling water and air,

When there’s

No earth to tread upon

Just scraps of mist

That trip and entwine,

Snake sinuous,

Slippery carcasses strewn on the quay,

I stumble, my head full of

Cold, dead fish

And the ghosts of gulls

That flit through the fog,

Silent as the river, sliding

Like cooling lead

To the unseen sea.

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Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

9 thoughts on “Walking through the drizzle”

      1. Light-headed but much better, thanks. I have three different brands of triptans that I alternate so the migraine never knows what I’m going to chuck at it 🙂

      1. If I wrote a poem while having a migraine, it would be about an Egyptian embalmer pulling my brain out my nose to stop the pain. I think your poem is pretty darn lovely compared to that 🙂

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