Revelations
The air smells of burnt
wheat and thunder,
an atmosphere compelled
to tell
the future.
Rain showers
the paving slabs,
creating
mirrors that steal the shadows
from under
our feet.
I am dressed heavenly
in white,
marching
alongside a plastic-coated pram
pressed
into service
for choir practice.
The spire of a church,
growing out from the fissure
between the commercial structures
seems slanted,
waiting for permission
to spill its bricks and mortar onto the streets.
Stephen Cuthbertson: Originally from Motherwell, Scotland, and having made a few stops across Britain in between, he completed a MA in, Creative Writing from Newcastle University in 2010. He now lives in Vienna. As well as looking for new homes for his work, has made walking in confused directions across the city a new past time.