smoke huddles
at the water’s neck
october gaslight

flickering wings
cold-fingered
lips pressed tight
the artist casts his canvas
to catch light to catch god

seagulls float
in the pink-grey bruise
morning fog on the Thames
their cries secrets
no one admits keeping

someone vapes
a peach-cloud curse
a bored librarian

Paul Conneally
June 26th 2025