Just One Hair
Just one hair
on a pillow slip or crumpled sheet.
And I would lie, contented on my side,
gaze at it, as if it were you.
What I have lost from you,
wisdom, might and delicacy
settled into the thinnest layers
softened by a covering of dust.
for you to touch all I have lost
is to touch that in yourself.
Fragile, Medusas’s Laugh Press 2019
I let you drop into the ground, that dark place.
Your bones in a box kept from me by the soil they insisted must lie between us.
Your skin has flaked into the earth but maybe your bones might shine if I came to you, brushed them clean, stroked them and stroked them until they gleamed.
I don't mind the soil, any love that has leached I will replace.
Do you miss your bones?
Do you secretly wish you could slip down to join them again, fit round them again, walk with them as I so long to do?
Dream Catcher 37, Stairwell Books, 2018
Stubborn embers insist - I have not lit the candles but the screen saver is glowing.
The moon slithers in through fog-buttered windows - the dirt spewings of the A10.
The light from the bathroom creeps down the stairs tripping over stripped Victorian paint.
Berries gleam on the mistletoe I did not buy.
(More) New Poems for Christmas, Live Canon 2018