The church clock struck
midnight
in muffling fog
a familiar yet
ominous sound
like the warning bell
on an ocean buoy
tolled by sea's
rythmic swell

Tranquilizers
make her
soggy
and hard
to light

A soothing mien
he has not
but like a shark
in a swimming pool
he has unignorable
presence

Mysterious mist
takes control
giving bulk
while removing substance

Your poems
the flame
I scorch

A piece of green bottle glass
smoothed by restless oceans
seed pod from the horsechestnut
that shaded summer garden
sixpence stained by christmas pudding
dated 1928
a tiny fossil set in stone
rough to the touch of fingers
old lace from grandmothers wedding dress
now stiff and yellowed parchment

Clouds crash
like surf
across metalic grey skies