cover the place with whiteness.
pink is pretty, white is clean.

they do not want to see it
today, a reminder of fragility.

.he had leaned toward me and commented
that i was getting old
and while that is correct i assumed from his
remark that he must be younger

time goes on and i am told that we are much
the same

carefully we drew her out
all tidy with reason, wearing
us down

putting words in my mouth
like sweet sultanas in chocolate

they come in twos

so while out on a longer walk,
met him and he explained to me,
about walking there and back again

how small
how white the child
skin rinsed with tears

salt in the wind

fail softly with a sloping line

tapering off into dots repeated

the fall is abrupt and possibly dramatic