April Collage Poem: Threads
Thread-bear walks away, brave and curious
Travelling down a road
Knowing nothing about time and space
Happiness of the hangman, as
the Death Row fly is executed.
Silken threads, falling heart strings
There is death in crowns and crones, in the tender air
We are always cutting threads - or weaving them.
I slipped on folded paper that has more than pallid meaning
He strides away like a rebuffed
flamingo their love a placentic thread
China tea cups for the Queen
This little boy will see no daddy
As he lays dead on the bloody floor
The thread of me with a thousand souls
Eleven dimensions, all with love and Death.