Cardiff

Each new morning

As the crisp sun cuts through the oak

That lines Sophia Gardens

A litter of fresh baggies

Line the Cardiff streets.

Frantic tongue and nail marks

Scar the ragged plastic

And betray the city’s nightlife

To the soft, welsh day.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s