Friday, August 23, 2013

A Poem by Ray Samuc

Washed away

cold spray
for lush grass surprises
and pricks the skin-- sudden like words
to a poet
landing on the page from a curious
somewhere. The absent breeze
frustrates you--positioning yourself
in its line of fire dares it
to drench you--
wet enough for the ink
of words
to run
from a page
and disappear forever.

Ray Samuc is an administrator and philosophy graduate from the North West of England. He has a poem published in Mused, and one forthcoming in Blue Lake Review.

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