The past unfurls
With silver memories
Like messy cloth,
Tarnished or frayed;
Each life woven with yours
And so many paths crossing
Twining over and under
A stitch dropped, or added
Shadowed or shining
And all being woven
With the thread you are spinning,
Spinning,


Spun

Steel grey streets
Wool grey sky
White-gold tree,
It's fall branches high
Silver beads cascade
Ink puddles collide
Crystal rivers parade
As though the white-gold cried

unkempt neck hair
dancing in the fan breeze
pleased by the sight, I push up my sleeves
and seethe while sieving the encrusted cheese cloth
elderly resin glands scratch like sand
and the blandness of the disease seems to squeeze
any meaning from the motion
ocean waves graze mutant toes as wind blowing
snow globes throws devotionally challenged
prose writers into a delightful tizzy
thin lizzy in the background sounds like
barking dogs at the drown pound
and unwound knitted sweaters look better
when wetter than investment bankers at the swankiest of parties
sour smarties in plastic hats use poorly ventilated ski masks
basking rashes in priceless sashes bat eyelashes at lasses during mass
and the catholic priest has ceased to crease his pleated trousers
mouse traps snap shut in front of the bunk beds
her trunk of junk likes crunk juice on Tuesdays
and I sit, drunken, trying to debunk 9/11 –

Jewelled dragons
Hover on glass wings,
Caressing the silky air
In an irredecent cascade
And rapidly ponders
The sky

i saw a white hart in
a wood,
gorgeous before the
night he stood,
delicate, like a pearl,
wild and untamed,
a graceful flower
of the breeze
where autumn leaves
drowned their
sorrows in mossy
streams,
as surreal as stars
melting their blue
in september seas.

The shade hides your eyes.
I really can't see the full extent of your bewitching gaze.
But you wait there.
Out of the sun.
In the shade cast by a lonesome tree in this vast city.
I suppose that would be the easiest landmark to find among this forest of concrete and steel.
I wait and observe your patience for such an awaited appointment.
All day you wait.  
Never looking left or right.
Never looking behind you or above.  
As the sun sets and the night takes its first breath,  you decide to take your first step out of the shade and into the night.
So I follow you.