A violet aura fades to indigo along the skyline.
The drug of anger, and euphoria, are extinguished—
everything that gives me purpose
is extinguished.

Extinction appears, on the twilit road,
dressed in a hooded, knee-length raincoat;
implacable as a stop sign, they point across the verge,
to an untrodden stretch of rough terrain.

Given a face, extinction becomes someone who might
be reasoned with; someone who may let you walk on,
to enjoy the scent of jasmine,
and soft music playing.

Selected byJordan Trethewey
Image credit:Matt Lamers

I live on the north coast of Wales, in the UK. And I work as a cleaner. I've been a gardener, a decorator, I've worked in Paint and wallpaper shop, and I've hung curtains and blinds for a living.  Everything I know about poetry I've learned from a few books and the internet. I write because I enjoy it, and because it feels worthwhile.