the passing of a king
it is a drear evening
a barren table
would-be sculpting in the varnish
drifting lights
sinking through an open window
my son is leaving
i sit and watch the fire
as embers
turn to ash
are seen no more
soon we’ll say farewell
i remember how when young
he’d run and jump on me
i’d hug him
kiss him
treat him like a king
as any lov...
Wednesday 10th July 2019 7:15 pm
carver of a tree
one night
i met a wandering likeness
of myself
its hand stretched out before me
and beckoned me to stay
i wavered
wondered
watched
then as i saw the hand recede
from the tree where it had slaved
i saw my life
carved out before me
for a while
i merely stood
and stared
then as i turned to walk away
i looked back
toward ...
Wednesday 12th June 2019 8:34 pm
Recent Comments
John Botterill on Freedom
40 minutes ago
Patrick Green on Cynthia Greenwood
50 minutes ago
Kevin Tan on Rotterdam
5 hours ago
Kevin Tan on Beatitude
5 hours ago
Rasa Kabaila on We Make Mud
5 hours ago
Rasa Kabaila on Freedom
6 hours ago
John Botterill on We Make Mud
7 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on We Make Mud
7 hours ago
John Botterill on Freedom
7 hours ago
kJ Walker on Mother
8 hours ago