Wolverton

When asked to wait by someone
boredom very quickly agitates my eye
so everything must be assessed, like evidence
and where it fits within this scene.
A row of untidily parked cars
become uneven poorly manicured toes,
a line of chipped nail varnish reflectors.
Hastily planted whisper saplings
wave and jiggle like excited schoolgirls
awaiting a royal visit.
The clinical lines of a nearby modern building,
raise an acute angled razor blade
not yet bathed by the struggling sun.
Random people come and go
like film extras, aimlessly searching for their mark,
they really have nowhere definite
to strike out for.
Unseen, somewhere distant are children
no doubt a ball is present,
they call and squeal like hungry gulls
squabbling over scraps.
My someone arrives, so I snap
the notebook tight,
the scene, the sounds, the scents
the dramas tightly captured within.
Where to next?

© Graham Sherwood 04/2017