3/27/2021 Poetry by Gareth Culshaw Paul Sableman CC GROUNDHOG DAY 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 Comments are closed.
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