Blade

It’s a metallic melancholy that tastes like blood a familiar flavour Cold and shiny Can’t see over its sharp edges Keep out of reach over the ledge to make us stop ….stagnate Concrete dammed up so high on its curved sides down at the bottom, where I stand clammy chip packet-wrappers and apple cores discarded used to be an ‘out of bounds’ skateboarder’s secret spot police tried to move kids along but they were elusive in their dexterity In the dry summer bright With no water in the shade Skinny child Look back through winter’s closed window From the other side Of 35