Until Spring

Poor grieving heart

ticking away months

as if they were seconds

Numbed by pain

it doesn’t notice

Cupid’s arrows

sweet sting

let alone

the soft touch

of butterfly wings

Crushed and crumbled

it ... entire poem

Cold Heart

It could well be

that my heart is dead

for it lies cold

and buried deep

underneath the ruins

that ... entire poem

Photograph: Mommamia

For more information visit:

www.flickr.com/photos/mommamia

Whose Shoes Are Yours

If we are not our bodies
I hope not
Nor our thoughts
Thought for the day
Then what

Performers glimpsed in passing
Open windows

We thought we had packed all our stuff
For the ever impending journey

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