At this time of year Winter's grip is left behind
In every corner little signs of Spring we find
Birds are pairing up, snowdrops brave the chill
Life in the earth begins to stir
And yes, I love you still

She was the noose that
       I'd hang myself from,
I would put the snare of
        her heart around my throat.

Her words would caress my
       windpipe strangling
me with loves whispers,
              suffocating me gently.

But words were hard to speak
        when she was collecting tightly
around my breath.
I couldn't be with her as I was suffocating,
                                 my actions she hung me from.

A footstep stood
is better than a step back.
We may leave a deeper print,
but it shows others
                    that's its not easily filled.

And that those that try to fill it,
              have lot more to prove


than the reason of its depth..

Though the sentence may end,
                       the ink carries on.
The cartridge seems vacant of
                                    wanton metaphors.

Exhibiting reflections on  soiled paper cups,
                wanting to be filled
with drinkable dictations of
                              what is spelt out in stains.

But I spilt that void long ago,
                          blemishing my shirt
with what meant to be drank upon.
        A decolouration of meaning read differently.

Breathless fragrances,
              aromas fading
beyond there time running out.

                             But we will always
expel the vapours of our emotions.
        And others will exhale upon our fading.

Just because you cant taste every
                   sentiment that's breathed,
       were all moving away, just moments fading.

So no one notices, at all
When golden greys of aged fall?
Except perhaps, for those who stay
To blend with every ordinary day

Plus you and I as time flies by
And too, those starlings flocking high.
That old man loitering in street,
Who eyes the million passing feet.
And she too at corner store,
Toothless face and wrinkled maw,
Exchanging cigarettes for coin
(With surreptitious scratch of groin).
Mailman, fat, long, loop moustache
Complaining long and rather harsh,
That they, gone, without a word,
Should vanish into air...absurd!

Someone in their every day
Feels the absence in the way
Details don't fall into place
And warmth is absent from the face.
M.