suddenly i thought

he has already signed the bomb

he’s going to nuke them

 fragmentation 

of an hot cross bomb

the word’s stigmata

 set sail

upon the winds 

of time’s demise

 ghost light 

the thoughts escape

slowly

 the word is addled 

in the rotten easter egg

of consumerism 

i’m going upstairs 

to bring my dressing gown

downstairs  

 cloudy

a rocket heads for the moon

cream tea

 let’s get a field

let’s get a donkey

and cavort 

 the dolls

around her death bed

vigil eyes

 sunlight

hitting the river

ripples it

 boredom

all the semicolons

of a frown

 the girl in her pram

is clinging to her box

- wind and rain