Idris Pavieu

 

 

With a torch

He could have signalled out to sea
An SOS, a wrecker’s trick

A flattened hand against the lamp,
He might have seen inside himself
As children do

He would have finger-painted
Scarecrow silhouettes
Until the sun seeped through the blinds

Until the shadows turned
From black to grey to white

 

 

 

Idris Pavieu is a 40-something faceless local government bureaucrat who occasionally grubs out a poem. Reviews include:

Wife: ‘It’s ok I suppose’
Kids: ‘We don’t get it’

Idris has had poems published in The Delinquent Issues 11 & 17

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