Gates
written by: Eoghan Lyng
We walked by Lancaster Gates,
Your hair glistening to the summer sun,
And I wondered to myself: “Is it me who has
Plunged to the bottom of the ocean,
And is it time to swim on?”
Lighting pipes by the dozen,
We smoked out our feelings,
Meaning we had none more to make.
I take no pride in recoiling mounting the
distance from the Lancaster Gates home.
Eoghan Lyng is an Irish man and sometime writer. He lives in Glasgow, having written from the perspective from Cork, Madrid and Prague. He has written for OutlawPoetry, VadaMagazine and FromTheLighthouse.
Latest posts by Eoghan Lyng (see all)
- Ramblings of a Listless Man - January 27, 2025
- Three Children - October 11, 2024
- Éire 1948 - July 16, 2024
