Paul Sableman CC
Another shift has ended, eight hours
in the wallet. My forklift truck
has moved the earth again.
I drive through the streets of night
reel in my home. Pub doors
open, show the thinning hair of men
that were schoolmates. I see
a gull on top of a bin as the traffic
light turns red. My car radio rustles
through the sky. Tomorrow morning
I will drive the other way and back
to work, listen to the milkman rattle
glass. See the first gull take flight,
catch a fox on the kerbs of our town.
Watch the moon pull up the sun.
Clock on, open the locker, turn
the key for the engine. Lift the earth
again with my forks. Feel the weight
in the lightness.
Gareth lives in Wales. He has two collections by FutureCycle called The Miner & A Bard's View. He is a current student at Manchester Met. Twitter culshawpoetry1
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