Suppose | Chris Powici
May. 28th, 2012 02:32 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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greatpoetrySuppose all we know of love
is a tiny greenhouse
falling slowly to bits
between a crab apple tree
and the railway's nettled bank;
a frail rickety eden
where little spiders weave
little dewy webs
on a scrunched-up Silk Cut packet
mouldering in a corner
under the tomatoes.
And suppose all we know of the world
is how the greenhouse creaks and sighs
in the cool dawn rain
and crab apple leaves brush against
the stone-cracked glass
while love grows red and ripe and soft
and summers pass like trains.
is a tiny greenhouse
falling slowly to bits
between a crab apple tree
and the railway's nettled bank;
a frail rickety eden
where little spiders weave
little dewy webs
on a scrunched-up Silk Cut packet
mouldering in a corner
under the tomatoes.
And suppose all we know of the world
is how the greenhouse creaks and sighs
in the cool dawn rain
and crab apple leaves brush against
the stone-cracked glass
while love grows red and ripe and soft
and summers pass like trains.
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