Dead Baby

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On a windless night

I feel the house shake

A child swirls rises

I smoke. Sit still.

Forget. Remember.

In this twenty-first century

The wind screams, rises

My mind screeches

Scattering thoughts, paper

Rocking foundations, shattering monuments.

Outside I gather windfalls in my night clothes

Amass them

Images scatter like dust.

I forget. Remember.

Rain pierces my eyes

Blinding me.

Ashes stick to my lips.

I taste them,

Bitter as the cud.

In vain I scurry.

Collecting remains

Holding the broken pieces together


Lights flicker in high windows

Cats crawl under cars

Rain stings me awake.

Soaking, shivering

I go indoors.

Pick up paper



◄ Piper at the gates of dawn

Vernal Equinox ►


steven arthur

Mon 25th Mar 2019 11:23

Healing is a lifelong process my friend. I hope your surgery goes well, John.

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Hazel ettridge

Sun 24th Mar 2019 12:30

Ashes stick to my lips. I taste them, bitter as cud.
What a brilliant belly button for such a moving poem.

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Martin Elder

Sun 24th Mar 2019 09:34

I love the delivery and the rhythm of this in short bursts of words which say all that needs to be said.
Nice one John

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