Framed

Bradford

Forgive me, for capturing you.
Snapped. Framed. I heard,
although you did shout,
that someone forgot to lock
the car, and you were sent
ambling back. I was after
the architecture, actually,
and to show a pewter sky
doubled in the river gloss.
The swans came soon,
and the water purled from
their bone-white plumes
as they drifted the river,
but I had to go before
they came.


I was invited to read at a poetry night earlier this week in Bradford-on-Avon. It’s a small town of lovely architecture, quaint shops, and humble history. Whilst I only had a few minutes to walk through the town, between arriving and the poetry starting, I had to capture a part of it.

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