so look up from your comfort
see the vastness that makes you so small
its the beginning of contemplation
a gift from the Universe, to you

there were tears,
many, they
flowed regularly
from
porcelain bowls
down drains
I'd hoped
would separate
the pain, cleanse
them, make them
water again,
free to roam
amongst
their own in salt
lake streams, banks
bursting at
the seams with
ripe green,
so different to here
where all they've
ever known was
fear, housed behind
eyes, between ears,
counting each
shallow breath
like they were
anticipating
their death.

We met at night
By the leaking window of the evening train
On the two seats with the fewest tears
Two spaces apart
Her perfume was like being loved to death
An olfactory haven above the damp and the diesel
I commented on the weather
And told her my name

Her movements were the increments
Of some heaven or hell
Some Utopia or Gomorrah
Her words trickled between bones
And emptied the room of air
"I'm going to tell you a story" she said

"It begins with a person falling
And ends exactly the same"

I am a tree - old and knarled.
I shall open my arms,
whisper to my seedlings
just how things might be.

Loneliness is now upon his throat

I know it for sure
What ails him hasn't a cure
He's shrinking like a sinking boat.

On the perch a plumed pain
He's lost without a care
Tells the vacant stare
Dooming into a never regain.

Death is an easy height to scale
When life remains to grieve
Without any incentive
As love retires to a dark well.

He's fading in the lost glory
And I know it for sure
What's killing him has no cure

My budgie called Story.