The Shouting Hill

On Sundays at the shouting hill 
we see them 
out there across the wire 
each week a little older 
and though the gap remains unchanged 
I seem to see our loved ones 
grow more distant

For six days they stand sepia and silent 
froze solemn on our mantle shelf 
but on Sundays at the shouting hill 
they are in colour 
though perhaps a little faded 
as they faintly call their love 
across the wire

by
John Laughland

 

Posted via web from Jonathan Bowker

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