Ordinary life creates
These empty spaces
Inside of me
Composed of God-knows-what:
Certainly lacking in originality.
On a snow drop face
These empty waiting rooms of the heart,
Set to tear us apart,
These ventricles of the brain, never the same.
Into fond recall
A dry-stone wall,
A dry-stone wall.
The smokey-smell of coal and steam
an evening’s desultoriness
or, a girl’s slight distress
as she leaves an empty nest.
Fleecy clouds on a dreary day
Don’t fade away,
Don’t fade away
Her tears mingle
With the spine-tingling haunting of the imagination
That is a prelude to a waking death:
Echoes and shadows of those who walked before
Sitting on the floor of an A&E trauma room.
Daffodils lean into a wind of change
Whisper: begin again,
An isolated cry punctures the sky
Disturbs the hush of illness
The ever present caw-caw-cawing of the brazen crows
Across the road, in another century,
When the heated glow of household fires welcomed
Tired soldiers home to share the beds of strangers.
And still the cries bounce from wall-to-wall
Echoing what precisely?
A grassy bank
To invest my time
No bells' chime,
No bells' chime.