Driving Wales to England
there’s a windsock so you know
what the breeze is like.
Why isn’t there one
on the other side?
In a way I’m pleased
that, like me,
even a giant bridge
can lose its socks.
More embarrassing for the bridge
because its ones are bright orange and huge
I can imagine its mum, saying for goodness sake
how can you lose that?
West of the bridge
we drive through stunning earth
bracken on mountains
ice blue lakes freeze
soil compressed by blackened sky
scanning the horizon for a glimpse
of the gigantic sofa
that the sock might be behind.
Mark Blayney won the Somerset Maugham Prize for ‘Two Kinds of Silence’. His third book ‘Doppelgangers’ is available from Parthian and his first poetry collection ‘Loud music makes you drive faster’ will be published in October.
Love this. Wonderfully extended surreal idea, dipping into a lovely haiku-like description and return to the original thought in a cracking last line.