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Balcony Life: Sometimes I just watched outside, and it was a glorious day. Children actually played. Groups sunbathed and basked in beer Ice-cream vans were heard not far from here Above a plane heading somewhere etched its mark traced in nothing but just plain blue sky, for miles, as far as the eyes could see. Up the motorway, the sun ignites on speeding sunroofs Toward the Campsie Fells set in a haze of bottle green The white trickle of yesterdays snow cut like some dyslexic ancient symbol A place for misspent youth and baking trays on icy days A hot cheap brand coffee in a chipped petrol-token mug Perched on weathered wrought iron painted brown like last year Meant so much in that moment grasped and shaped like glass with glee I remember that there is life in this here estate sometimes Watching as you do, from your own slice of life on your patch of balcony
0
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:24 AM UTC
Voices from the North part 2
Balcony Life: Sometimes I just watched outside, and it was a glorious day. Children actually played. Groups sunbathed and basked in beer Ice-cream vans were heard not far from here Above a plane heading somewhere etched its mark traced in nothing but just plain blue sky, for miles, as far as the eyes could see. Up the motorway, the sun ignites on speeding sunroofs Toward the Campsie Fells set in a haze of bottle green The white trickle of yesterdays snow cut like some dyslexic ancient symbol A place for misspent youth and baking trays on icy days A hot cheap brand coffee in a chipped petrol-token mug Perched on weathered wrought iron painted brown like last year Meant so much in that moment grasped and shaped like glass with glee I remember that there is life in this here estate sometimes Watching as you do, from your own slice of life on your patch of balcony
DBeard
Written by
Scottish
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:24 AM UTC
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