Garbage breakfast time, and the
Dagger-beak crows stab,
Sensing the stinky juicy bits,
They tear, poke, and grab.
And not very long
After they start,
Raw garbage strewn about,
Bags ripped apart...
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Random Rhymes From An Expat Living A Long Way From Home
Image by Mark Harm Niemeyer
Far Out (By Philip Larkin)
Beyond the bright cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on the air.
These have no proper names:
Men out alone at night
Never look up at them
For guidance or delight.
For such evasive dust
Can make so little clear:
Much less is known than not,
More far than near.
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