We often skipped breakfast,
believed that days couldn't last,
we knew that statues would topple one day,
and crumble,
with enough dust to fill the air
and filter out the sunlight.
Beneath the idle frames on the abandoned park
we lay outstretched on split concrete,
watched clouds race across an open sky,
wild shadows on the static field
danced until the early evening;
they taught us everything we knew.
Ray Samuc is an administrator and philosophy graduate from the North West of England. He has poems published in Mused, Blue Lake Review and other fine places.
