The first doom you pronounced: you needed time.
Well, now you have forever and a day.
As off you fled you said you needed space:
those parallels diverge and drift away.
So by myself I taught myself to rhyme,
to solemnize whatever I might say;
and learned to put on things another face,
watching dark coruscating wavelets play.
It's taken time for space to heal again;
but heal it does as it makes shift to flee.
I never understood this choking chain;
until these links' dissolving mystery.
To torture me which just leaves memory:
oh, fetch the secateurs, cut love from me.
YOU ARE READING
Gifts and Shards Vol 2
PoetryThis is the second and final volume of 'Gifts and Shards'. This takes us from the second month to now well over three years later, though there were many C poems in the collections tracking the seasons. There are no similar stories!
