Winter

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 Glue in the wound

It pulls like the glue in a wound

even in the free green fields

each stem tipped with sweet blue

springtime buds ever dancing

short-lived yet carefree

yet it pulls.

And the blood can be seen

for the wound never closed

and even the most joyful place

where swallows swoop

and daisies dance

it forces itself to the fore

like a cloud before the ( Read more... )

The Grief

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The Cliff Garden

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The Thread

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For Carrie

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Brightest Grey

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Living Nameless

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The Dream

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Painted Cafe

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