Friday, 3 December 2010

a mitten lost on Brighton pier

It is the most
inconsequential of things -
fallen there among wrappers,
fortunes and evening tears.

The karaoke bar is singerless,
the washing waves are morning post
waiting for the sort.
The seagulls pair and criss
and confident in their kind.

Out there, perhaps someone walks,
hand to pocket, unbalanced,
out of sight. 

written by Patrick Daniel Toland

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