carnations (Remove filter)
Carnations
Carnations
After the bath
she used to drag
black worms
of coal dust
from the corner
of his eyes.
He has never cried,
though sometimes -
when he thinks back -
for no apparent reason
he finds charcoal
on his cheeks.
He is clean now,
though for many years
every crease and wrinkle
on his angry forehead
was gritted with
carbon hate.
Where once stood
a newsagents
on the corn...
Friday 3rd April 2015 8:04 pm
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on June 2025 Collage Poem: You Watched the Trains Come, You Watched the Trains Go
4 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
9 hours ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
1 day ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
1 day ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
1 day ago