She is not here

in the garden, in the crunching

of snails,

the careful snip of a rose.

She is not here

in my kitchen, puffing out

bags of flour;

no mischief in my measuring out.

She is not here

in my study, the place

I planned my retreat

after many long years.

She is not here

in my car, the radio

spilling out fresh horrors,

my name sunk a...

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I will turn green

among the bones of trains,

a loop of gravity

sending me back to the start

of love, lulls, silence

and shelter. The storm breaks

elsewhere. This train don’t stop here.

Hope for a saviour,

turn away from yourself in the mirror,

break the spell! The trick is

to enter the mirror,

to see the shining coat,

to be the silver.

Aimless, sall...

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All the world is in here with its little light;
the floor ripples mutely with candles, a small
helpless beacon
in a horrified night.
This heart houses
patience by the thousand, all those
sick swallowing grins as they come
to pay in pain, ask 
favours of the empty air, again, again.

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hands to the hull
expecting your tapping, your ghosts
late at night I hunt you through the dark

so many fates wrapped up 
in your airless little world
it is hard to believe in you
tappings, knockings
are you alive in there?
what do you hear?

wonder about the tide
is it stormy where you are
serene at the bottom, awaiting lift
toward the light

when your fate is in others' hands
s...

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