At A Burnt Out Double Storey House (Fay Slimm form / decanelle)
Flames had once covered every thing, the entire
space of the floor,
with cooking gas at a cylinder exploding burning
up to the door
and now this ruin consists out of bricks and wire
sheltering the poor,
at a copse of blue gum trees, a place of mourning,
at a big moor;
in my mind I can see that great exploding fire
at the trapdoor.
poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
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