My Poetry: To be bored with life -part 2

To be bored with life -part 2

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Cursing the light
I slide onto the pavement
from the shadow of my past
tip-toeing to the shop
for the day’s rations
under a winter sun
that cannot warm my bones.

Sounds of cars and birdsong
all disappear
in the hum and sighs
of tailored scions
from tree lined streets
as they scuttle past
the ghost
of the boy from number nine.

I circle
like a cat

before sitting
on the edge of the curb
set adrift
like a old toy ship
rolling notes
through finger and thumb
hoping the high priestess
with her alcoholic visions
can save my soul
from her street corner alter
offering a cure to my ills
with pills and powders
and all arounders
that will lift the anchor
and set me free.

…Until tomorrow.

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