Difficult to equate 
this life this fate
decisions to change course 
those cared-for lost

slow, quiet strength replaced
by activity, the hyper mouthful.

I miss you
your slow quietness, the deliberate

this miss was
his quietness, his range of silences, his thoughts

deliberate, I liked that, and our shared space had love in it.

Balance to gain, use; puzzlement, pain, all the
colours of the thing, the seasons of summers
and the rain.

Responsibility for turning
and turning again

the sphere backlit from the light within.

I mourned much
and mourned again.

I never saw his face
and I miss his grin.

Torch the frost, I say, begin.
The Teetering Woman
Return to Collections all
next poem