‘Climate’ by Mike Doherty That yellowing mould of surrender Like soft vows Subsides on the kerb as a light wind makes the leaves Skittish With those most recently released from the bough Falling through shafts of sunlight and forming, casually A duvet against the stone, against the cold of a coming night This heat has made the trees distress and shrug off their ornaments Those leaves Fluttering dependents in need of drink and so they are Expendable. It is the rule of law. Long grass warped into dry and brittle threads Susceptible to fire. All these indicators of change Gather here in plain sight to form a queue of warning signs Do Not Proceed. One Way Only. Danger of Death Another turning point goes blind to history All the common sights forgot and nothing left But burning twigs Meet the Poet! Mike Doherty says: “I have always tried to express myself. School reports exhort you to “try harder”. Poetry is the only medium I have found to reach into the corners of my soul and shed some light. It’s never easy and often not terribly good. But, I love it.” Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Published by fragmentedvoices A small, independent press based in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, UK, and Prague, the Czech Republic View all posts by fragmentedvoices