Stop Press

I hurry through the littered city streets

in search of understanding

our cosy careworn world

cast into disarray,

*

old newspaper headlines 

telling of old war stories

are blown by the winds of fate

and tangle around my shins

flapping like shredded flags

yesterday’s news 

countries, cities, wars 

from a past now all but forgotten

today’s chip paper

*

I falter I stumble I kick-out

tearing from my legs 

the unread threadbare print

once more takes flight,

to spread its plaintive word

*

© Graham R Sherwood 03/22