a man runs down the road
exercise brings comfort
but who needs comfort
when you have
beer
cigarettes
and a summer afternoon

We need to talk about today
she said, standing in the doorway
Staring straight ahead
and I sat on my chair with the heaviest heart
None of us knew where to start

There was a sunrise like no other I'm told
We stayed inside away from the cold
Coffee and words and wrinkled sheets
Until she sat up with tears on her cheek
and the sun got too hard to uphold

It got cloudy fast as secrets were strewn
and we fought silence and sound all afternoon
Wishes and hopes and broken oaths
All gone so we were barely able to stay afloat
we had lost the sun and waited for the moon

We need to talk about today
I said, standing in the room unsure
Staring straight at her
and she came towards me with the heaviest heart
None of us knew where to start

They try and make
Their subtle gazes
As quiet as possible
They're in love
And know things about each other
Whispered in ears
In the crowded morning sunshine
And secrets shared in the shade of the afternoon
Tepees made of duvets in the shadows of night
Lovers be ******,
Because they are granted the wishes
Of hopeless God's and Goddesses.

the silent tress hold memories
of winters sweet melodies

search high and low
and in every fox hole
where oh where.. can she be?..

oh feet that quickly flee
who then holds your stories
or keeps you... in times keep

but the trees and stones
that stay beside roads
you gave a glance to safely keep
but in every time
of past and new
they pass by you
without speaking speak
beginning , end ...old and new
oh what stories you doth keep

We came upon slowing traffic.
Inside the bus
Standing passengers were thrown
and grips tightened
as we edged forward across
the unfinished road.

We passed the sun-glassed
occupants of cars and busses
and the rolled-up sleeves
of lorry drivers who's
tanned arms hung out
of every window, and
who's fingers tapped
an unheard tune.

I stooped to stare at the
dancing distance of  
the baked tarmacked
highway.

Our eyes stung and wet
The metalled road blazed.
Our approaching gaze silent.

Gripped passports Identity papers
rosary- beads
-Letters of transit -
not needed;
The border did what most
borders do-
and shrugged us through.

Laughter becomes all languages.

Later that afternoon,
I sipped from the glass I held.
Jez turned to me and asked,
"Is this what it's like to be drunk?"
I smiled as I slid my wine towards her...
...
words and foto T Carroll..