Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Friday, 13 January 2012
Sweet Mourn
I have been able
I hope one day you may
& then the quick flit
From the motorway
To the fireplace
To the carpet on your landing
To find a taste
That this time came without chase
Was unburdened
By past felt contractions
Birth of a thought
Flicker of a light
Symbolisms sultry smell
Of scent upon her pillow
The weep of the willow
As she sweeps the earth
As she seeks for the leaves
That ground her singers
Singers
Of soft songs and lullabies
Who are in sweet mourn
Unable to say
Though one day we may
& that day is to be today
The pamphlet EmbroideredCadillac from which this poem is taken is available at the itunes store for only 99 pence, click here to be connected