A Pale Blanket

a pale blanket

and a rusted blanket:

the harbour

and the clouds

in the time from Milsons Point

to Wynyard

the rust turns to lead

it was light out when I left

and in the last bit of brightness

I flew out into the yellow sky

my thoughts

missed their stop

Critiques

Name: sami

Email: sami5001@gmail.com

Insight:

well, i've seen better poems... i'd say the words could be changed a bit perhaps!

Name: ARJ

Email: roceal@jngm.net

Insight:

Thanks for the feedback, sami. Actually that's the idea. These aren't supposed to be good, they're just meant to keep the little hamster wheel turning while I'm riding home on the train. Maybe some will get reworked into something more polished.