rain fall

 

Conceived in furnace

Birthed through granite steel canal

Nursed upon heather tartan tweed.

 

After games under slagheap sunsets

Coal burning warms our bones

Sodden from the endless mist

 

The fires are out

 

The rain still falls

 

Reviews

[Damien Dsoul]

The poem starts with a blend of the magnificent and the uncanny, almost like reliving the glorious brith of an ancient Greek god. The imagery is symbolic in status and strength ... though this dissipates by the time I got to the fouth and fith lines. The gloominess is so apparent.