Pages

Tuesday, 12 February 2013

Misplaced Sentimentalities

I learnt of the word rill
From a woman poet in Vermont
Was it wrong to build such a slice of water
Into my lovers garden

Not that the construction lasted
The symbolic landscaping vanquished
Shortly after our final inseparable separation

I remember New England in the fall
I brought home a fallen leaf
If I had been stronger
I might have framed the veins for my lover

Not that the token was lambasted
She, I dare to believe, escaped on occasion
Out by the rill, into my search for tranquility


From the Collection One Crow to a Tree - Love in Separate Houses available from Lulu