In the beginning there was nothing!

The man in the moon

slips off his perch,

the light at the end

of the tunnel dies,

weathered hands

claw back time

on a clock-face

pitted by sand.

The footsteps of yester-years

walk along  a crooked mile,

placed upon a travelling grave,

a suitcase in need opens

to a rainbow that has fled

leaving a pot of stones.

Who flies the broom

that sweeps the past

leaving no clues

but a rogue mind

lost in thought -

where the portal mind

has as many entries

as it does exits.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Very creative and visual Andrew. Quite different from you. A rogue mind can certainly wander. No happy rainbows here.

Chris

[andrew mitchell]

Thank you Chris don’t get on here much these days just too busy/distracted.

[barleygirl]

This is the most imaginative thing I've read from you! You've really leaped from your usual moorings here & gone a little astral on us. I love it! Many writers harken to the well-known cliches but rarely do they re-design them so cleverly (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[andrew mitchell]

Thanks Margie, it’s my favourite of all mine I think.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this reminds me of Richard Wilbur's poem "Mind"--
the mind like a bat...flittering about in its cave...and in the end perhaps a graceful error will correct the cave.
j.

[andrew mitchell]

Thanks j, I must look him up.