Hornets

I dream of an old friend
who has become a recluse
I dream of him as a tramp
with lanky hair
and yellowed teeth
dressed in an old overcoat
(the kind they wear in dreams)

In this dream
much the worse for whisky
he is beside himself
beating at the air
shouting the odds
beset by hornets

Published by colinhopkirk

Poet, writer, artist. Writing and performing in England, publishing anywhere. Member of Hexameter performing poets. Workshops, projects, cross-arts collaborations.

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