The window reflects me reflecting
Beyond: bin men work.
I catch my reflection and look away,
I see my own hands, a folded dove.
A bang from without
A mechanical purr
A cat runs through my mind. The child,
How will I tell her?
Standing, the doors absorbs me,
The window is unattended,
If only there were nothing to tell,
But there is.
And the truth always gets out
                        Somehow.

"Who clapped?"
           He scratched the sweat under the wig.
                     "Who clapped?"

The tent rustled in the breeze,
Breeze from what?

"Tell them it's ok"

                     And he left.

With closed eyes I see
Chandeliers swinging free

                A dream

my belongings number three
Plate, spoon and aged setee.

Underlit by a candle
             Lightbulb reflections

Warming frozen hands
Lips smattering

Intettwining destinies

            Hands wrapped round
            No sound

In speaking, I, you respond with one word
                      Good.

I smile.


We, to each another, chat,
Chitting.

You a quiet man make
I, a quiet other

Together
                    Intimacy

Ham and chicken
And butter smoothed out,
Coleslaw.
Pots of tea for the crowd
Gathered
They walked from the church

To the house empty
Of his noise.
Cheese falls to the floor.

Streaking
                          By
Naked as the sun.