I used to fall
Face first
Now
I don’t even move
There are enough miles
In those dead end towns
And neon streets
To close down
Any parlour
Not of the flesh
But of the mind
This quiet space
This country village
It calms the need for more
No motorbikes
No mopeds
No waking up
On the side of some road
The morning here
Brings fresh air
I steep
I don’t stir
These passing leaves
J H Martin is from London, England but has no fixed abode. For more information, please visit: https://acoatforamonkey.wordpress.com/