Categories: Poetry

Coin Flipping by Gareth Culshaw

He stood with knowledge
eyes alert to the bubble, fingers
strong enough to hold a building.

Brick coins flipped, wrist snapped,
hawk fingered grabbed dead weight.
He held a spirit level

with a knights battle stance.
Tapped the brick on top
with egg splitting finesse.

His life was laid before him,
putting bricks to sleep with a scoop
and tap. Strengthening each joint.

In contrast, every brick I laid resembled
work from his teenage years. My wall,
hindered by life’s deception: time.

# # #

Gareth Culshaw lives in Wales. He is an aspiring writer who hopes one day to achieve something with the pen.

Photo credit: Larry Thacker   www.larrydthacker.com

contact@dimeshowreview.com

Recent Posts

Pandemic Moon by Joy Mahar

Joy Mahar is an emergent writer living on the outskirts of Detroit. Her work has…

4 years ago

75 Percent by Ivy Almond

They received a much needed shower this morning: bare branches of trees, Fall's fallen crushed leaves,…

4 years ago

Aubade with Persephone by Jen Finstrom

“Persephone is having sex in hell.” –“Persephone the Wanderer,” Louise Glück This isn’t hell, but…

4 years ago

Helpless by Thomas Elson

“Again.” “Again.” “Again.” “Once more.” Her son slid down the wall onto the hallway floor.…

4 years ago

The Innocent by Vasvi Kejriwal

He told my Ma I was too young to know what a tumor felt like.…

4 years ago

Jodi’s Eyes by Stephen Banks

“Don’t leave the backyard, Jodi!” “Okay, Mommy, I won’t!” That last conversation echoed in Sarah’s…

4 years ago

This website uses cookies.