by Rachel Cunniffe
I watch ash blonde darken
To a nameless shade
Wet, dribbling and gleaming.
Caught in headlights
Fogged and sulphury
We do not freeze
But spin on the spot
And lunge down concrete walkways
Moist cheeks reflect the yellow
Of AFTAN’s KEBABs.
This rainy night
Stretches the spectrum
Of petrol and police sirens
From the blue of sad songs
To soft porn.
Your t shirt clings, damp.
I like your shape
But this is as far from Club 18-30
As we could get.
I join your game
Of follow my leader.
Together we blaze
Jump wire fences
Like foxes gone urban.
Rachel Cunniffe is based in the North East of England and has written a wide range of poetry since being a teenager, has a MA in Writing Studies gained in 1995 from Edgehill University College.
Real jobs stifled her creativity for 16 years and she has recently been able to partially retire and spend more time writing again. She has been a member of several creative writing groups one of which has been in existence since 1991.
She read regularly at the now sadly no more Callender Poetry Festival in September during that time for about 9 years. She lives with a large black dog and two cats.
