Rust, by Edward Alport

A fair exchange?
An ancient garden tool, left out to rust
Not broken. Obsolete.
Abandoned where it came to rest.

But something loves it.
Nettles have caressed it, year on year.
Brambles have embraced it
With the periwinkle (Vinca major) standing guard.

And the rust!
A slow firework display creeping over the surface.
A coruscation of decay,
Dirty diamond crystals twinkling in the rain.

So utilitarian and venerable
It could be a monument, to something memorable.


Published 24th of August 2021


About Edward Alport

Edward Alport is a retired teacher and proud Essex Boy. He occupies his time as a poet, gardener and writer for children. He has had poetry, stories and articles published in a variety of webzines and magazines. He sometimes posts snarky micropoems on Twitter as @cross_mouse