deepundergroundpoetry.com
W A L K
Where am I?
Where have I been?
These pools are not made of tears,
or wine,
or blood . . .
So why is this bucket
at my feet?
Why am I so strange?
Is there really
a wind?
Or, maybe,
is it just my own breath
that I think I see?
Where am I?
Who am I?
What am I?
This world looks more red
than grey,
and the red looks pale
and beaten.
Where have I been?
These pools are not made of tears,
or wine,
or blood . . .
So why is this bucket
at my feet?
Why am I so strange?
Is there really
a wind?
Or, maybe,
is it just my own breath
that I think I see?
Where am I?
Who am I?
What am I?
This world looks more red
than grey,
and the red looks pale
and beaten.
Published 6th May 2012
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