The Steam Vents At Stew Lane

THE STEAM VENTS AT STEW LANE

I am caught
I am held
By pale organza ribbon streams
Hissing damp
Into chaste air
Pursuing heaven from the depths
Of earth’s dark musked breath.
And all thoughts
Of this day’s Progress
Are swept up and carried
Into mists of ghosts.
They disburse
And
Escape me.
To flee
On wings of steam.
.
.
.

Poetic Asides Day 2: Brightness and Darkness and Joseph Harker’s Recursions Day 2 Prompt: A Deep Drink

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