Green Park
He screeches to a halt with empty rage
Out of control
Consumes a broken bench
Stopped in his tracks
A frustrated story at the end of a page
Mid flow
Nowhere to go
Mottled dewdrop
glints in the sun
From Days into nights
Screams
The trees they speak
Whilst daffodils peak
Raging
Constantly changing
Always there
Green Park's alright
Dependable
Wash away wounds in the pouring rain
Beauty swain
Something right that seems undone
Whilst the clouds themselves reveal the warmth of the sun
Matthew Scurfield