the tattered old man on Christmas Eve

snow was falling hard

as the old man struggled

through the deep drifts

on the country road

light shone from a

a farmhouse window

the old man smiled seeing the glow

it was a candle

the widowed mother had placed there

nightly since last Christmas Eve

a year ago

a man was found

frozen along this s...

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the tattered old man on Christmas Eve

snow was falling hard

as the old man struggled

through the deep drifts

on the country road

light shone from a

a farmhouse window

the old man smiled seeing the glow

it was a candle

the widowed mother had placed there

nightly since last Christmas Eve

a year ago

a man was found

frozen along this same road

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He nods to one side

Gives in to a few minutes

Maybe half an hour’s worth of tiredness.

In his bungalow

Time is stood still

Mid afternoon melts in through the curtains

Through the half open window.

Outside impatient young mums

Scold their primary school children for wanting to go on the swings

When they just want to get back home

And plant them in front of the tv

Wh...

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Beneath The Watch Tower

I watch the man who sits below the oak,

his features twisted by the scars of time,

a body wrapped inside a velvet cloak

of moss, that wasn’t there back in his prime.

He played amid the gnawing granite teeth

that sprung from grassy gums of evergreen

and knew nothing of those who lay beneath,

but only those who, with him, danced ...

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