Under a wan silver sky
I drank your cup of dreams
On that lonely snowy plain
I unpicked your certain seams
In the bleak pall of mountains
I tested your fickle faith
By the broken bones of buildings
I left you an empty wraith

Beneath antique gardens
with manicured lawns
Genteel tea parties
and gambling fawns
They snarl in the dark
Wolves under lock
Loose them a little
and they’ll run amok

A low sun dances
on bowing willows
A gentle breeze
Our boat sail billows
Water clear
but once like tar
of burning tears
Regrets that char
What could have been
has ebbed away
No venom remains
just a beautiful day

Crystal
Vivid as crisp morning sky
pass to the intangible
I cling like I’m drowning
My grip flails through
days and years
and the memories
Fall

Stifling steaming
sweaty suffocation
Vines envelop
inescapable intwining
Sun pierced canopy
light jagged glass

In shifting shadows
a crawling cacophany
Slithering serpents strangle
branches of
overhead dread
of filth
and bite
and sting

In eyes and smiles
the jungle breathes
heaving
coiling
waiting