In memoriam

At some time in my death
will the grass grow
over my grave,
untended;
and will the stones fall,
the words washed from them
by ages of rain?
What then the memoriam?

Stolen time and iced coffee

Stolen time and iced coffee.
She sits her phone to her ear -
Smiling.

Let your day be like a falling leaf in the wind -
He whispered.

She fell happily.

of richer purfumes and desert sounds

Living in one time I close my eyes
and am in another where my heart is held;
there our inner-selves dance and sing,
swaying in time to deeper tunes
of richer perfumes and desert sounds.
There we hold each other close,
not daring to let go
in case we turn to mirages.

Where we dare not tread

The cuckoo sounds
double calling,
both here
and not here,
now heard
but unseen.

Its cry echoing in two worlds;
here and now,
yours and mine,
known and labelled,
intimate and secure -

and beyond,
where we dare not tread.

Hanging between somewhere and nowhere

Hanging between somewhere and nowhere
Twisting on the end of a thread.
Not knowing where today is,
Not knowing where tomorrow will be,
Knowing that yesterday
Can lay no claim on today,
Nor today on tomorrow.

Jump they shout -
but it is not their cliff
that I am dangling over

Soft surrender to the night

I would the touch of your finger
gentle as the spring breeze.
I would your soft breath
warm upon my cheek.
I would your lip's brush
passing like silk.
I would the day
soft fading into night
and the night
soft fading into nothing.

Hanging onto the moment

Hanging onto the moment
for that is all that we have
from first to last,
nothing more,
nothing less;
seemingly so small,
yet so very vast

Senses of you

Senses of you
in a passing moment;
there in all but body -
tangible,
touchable,
an echo in a space
as if you have just left.

Resurrection

When your hair is white and your eyes have grown dim,
will you remember?
When you can no longer run and your hands have grown gnarled,
will you remember?
When all that is left is sitting and waiting,
will you remember?
And in remembering will we both live once more?

Dark tides

Dark tides under moonlit skies,
half unseen but guessed at -
soundings upon the shingles.
Each retreat calls your name.
Each incoming crash a question.
Which follows which I care not,
for the answer remains unchanged.