My page is not full
The lateral movement
Convulsing into jagged lurches
As inspiration
Tangles its heavy hand
On each seam it finds to bend.
So this wind will blow
Until fresh songs
Dance around tempting,
Gravity and reason
Forcing their hearts
Into a dance
That my mind will swing
And remember
A collection can be so empty.
Tag: collection
Collection Box (day 2920)
In envelopes of my collection box
My heartache rests beside my lover’s hair
Rusted pins and unused pens
Worn well and never used.
Could opening be the end?
I drove a long night
Through windy roads
Of Scotland’s y’Or
Great Bras d’Or,
And long wild grass on feral land:
Swan song I’ll sing again.
Head can see, alighted way
Matchsticks lite Borrower’s torch;
Down a cold tunnel with dripping water.
Lover’s name in a letter she carried.