I wander streets
as days lie in wait
on blind corners
and the future
hides behind clock faces.
Six magpies steal gold
from afternoon sun,
the seventh
knows secrets
like city stone.
In corners of a shadow
a black cat
sees me coming,
stretches, counts time,
disappears into days.
And waits
to deliver news
I’d least expect.
Paul Waring is a retired clinical psychologist who once designed menswear and was a singer/songwriter in several Liverpool bands. His poems have appeared in journals/sites including Reach Poetry, Eunoia Review, The Open Mouse and are forthcoming in Clear Poetry and Amaryllis. He recently returned from living in Spain and Portugal and continues to enjoy being re-acquainted with the wonderful variety of nature in Wirral and other parts of Britain. His blog is https://waringwords.wordpress.com.
Foxglove Journal 