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The Trail

Now rooted in the tireless sun, pod-like,
muddy concaves lobbed our feet in awkward jaunts.
Awake and alive, young and light
we were in motion!
Manoeuvring the familiar landscape,uneven everything;
narrow gutters encased in concrete tombs,faded and freckled to near splotchy greyness.
Past the claret homes in their time bestowed elegance,
past the undulating waves of corrugated metal sheets;grainy blotches, patiently browned -interminably oxidized.

Oblivious we were to the crisscross trespass of electric cables in the soft blue sky,
to the sturdy wooden NEPA poles, tired and bowed, almost unsteady,statuesque and sadly stoic…
The bric-a-brac of semi-urban living; discombobulated monuments
to what had once been dreamt possible.

All rights reserved-@KOS Poetry  Collection- Oluwatoyin Sutton 2014

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