Poem #104 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction

an explosion

and smoke


the streets are grey
with settled dust
the buildings

a chattering of gunfire


and screams

huddled bundles
of rumpled cloth

of rumpled clothes

the battle is everywhere

the war
is everything


the bubble
beside the river
a few meters
of green

no dust
appears to reach the glass

looking in
a tartan blanket
is spread upon
a patch of grass

a couple
lie facing the flow
of the water

looking out
the sun is shining
a pleasant hue

the temperature is mild
and so very pleasant

on the river
a boat
goes punting by

the woman
gives a tinkly laugh
at something said

at some small jest
the man has made

there is chicken
in the sandwiches

in the flutes
from out of a green bottle


a man falls
life ended
into the water

the river holds him
as a mother might

takes him
his broken body
towards the sea

the infinity
that is the sea

and somewhere beyond
a small patch
a bubble
of green

© Frank Prem 2017

Bachelard and me Poem #105: injecting the black


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