The city of swifts, where we walked
crook-footed over cobbled mosaics,
eyed flickering geckos on sun-flecked
walls;
lay silent under the crisp cotton
sheet
side by side in the heat, untouching;
swam in shallow water as the sun
made tortoise-backed patterns
on the shifting sea bed.
We were so thoroughly
unprepared
for what came next.
---
Penny Blackburn lives in the North
East of England and writes poetry and short fiction. Her publications include
pieces online in Bangor Literary Journal, Atrium and Ink, Sweat & Tears and
in print with Paper Swans Press, Reader’s Digest and Maytree Press.
She is on Twitter and Facebook as
@penbee8 and on Instagram as penny.blackburn.5.
So atmospheric ��
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