a skull for a bonnie head-
and love itself a metaphor, rose, red.
Carol Ann Duffy
Gosta Adrian Nilsson (1929)
All the streetlights are out,
the city drowns under a dank pall
of inky rain clouds;
squalls pelt the deserted
car parks and off-ramps, no voice
but the tinkle on broken glass…
Though I cannot see your face,
my fingers are threaded through yours,
barely alive in a suburb of ghosts
and I would gladly die for love.
Micro Poetry ~ Streetlight Rain
and linking up with Poetry Pantry #349.