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And as I wait I tremble<\/strong><\/p>\n These plates are floating, though I know I wait for you Thin, the moon, poignant, thin, Clive Donovan\u00a0<\/strong> is a full-time writer of poetry and has had many poems published in a variety of U.K. poetry magazines. He lives in Totnes in Devon and has yet to make a first collection.<\/p>\n This poem was first published in the magazine Brittle Star<\/em> #35<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" And as I wait I tremble These plates are floating, though I know They shouldn’t be. The buildings lean in, lowering Over the street. Cobbles rush their ancient patterns. Windows are eyes, but Lashless. Their cords rattle And the dancing stars crowd down Like lemmings In the dark ink-blue. I wait for […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8481","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8481","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8481"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8481\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8483,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8481\/revisions\/8483"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8481"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8481"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8481"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThey shouldn’t be.
\nThe buildings lean in, lowering
\nOver the street.
\nCobbles rush their ancient patterns.
\nWindows are eyes, but
\nLashless. Their cords rattle
\nAnd the dancing stars crowd down
\nLike lemmings
\nIn the dark ink-blue.<\/p>\n
\nIn this raffish caf\u00e9
\nAt the edge of town.<\/p>\n
\nIts blade cuts at my heart.
\nAnd I think you may be late.<\/p>\n