A RETURN TO THE ARMS OF LOVE I sit here at last, At long fucking last, Free as a bird just like the Skynyrd used to sing about At last free from the distraction of work Or survival in a town where I very nearly Gave up all hope. Today, however, I sit here In a place that one day, a very long time From now I hope, will be home And yet it already does as the Stress and horror of my other life Is finally eviscerated as I return to These blessed Arms of Love GLAD TO BE ALIVE! With a few months away, Stuck working on the fiction As I got used to my new job, It feels good, no, scratch that This feels fucking great to Even just sit here & write this Poem for no one but me Just to say 10 new poems In the last 8 days shows I Still got it & man alive I Feel this could be The dawning of a new day When I just got to feel glad To be alive! WAIT UNTIL SPRING As the nights come to close later with every passing Setting of the sun you’ll see the expressions of the down & Out and those not much removed from the pavement change As the realisation that spring is on its way and will Soon be here to captivate all but provide, for us down Here at least, a brief respite from another night spent on a Mattress in an ice-box of a room or for those poor souls Who call the street their home.
BIOGRAPHY
Bradford Middleton still lives in Brighton on England’s south-coast where he works part-time in a shop and full-time on his words. His latest book, The Whiskey Stings Good Tonight, was recently published by the Alien Buddha Press. Recent poems have appeared in Cajun Mutt Press, Cacti Fur, Fixator Press, Horror Sleaze Trash, Rye Whiskey Review and the glorious Mad Swirl. He tweets occasionally @BradfordMiddle5.