Chris McInnes Poems


All of hands of tongue of talk; wanders as we walk,
hushed into whispers, etching the ether
over skylarking streets; - scratchy branches sleep
hunched – our voices tremble;... more »

The Nature Of Things

This world of concrete—viewed through many
of the same repeating windows—
seems lost; forlorn.
Whilst people... more »

Sunset Over Busy Streets

Walking across autumn streets
to reach beyond grasp, in vain,
at the sunset –if only I could hold it still a while.... more »

Chris McInnes Quotes

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