Now the wine
has stoped working
and these poems
sit quietly like
tired horses
I wish sorrow
was a stranger
but she shines
brightly sometimes
like silver in a
rubble of stone
she follows me
down every street
she haunts my
road of truth
I see her in the bars
in ally ways
in tiny rooms of
loneliness
I see her smile
through dusty light
I see her stand so thin
so sweetly by the
midnight winter trees
Clay.M

I look out of a window
as it throws a pretty reflection
for a moment the light moves
in slow motion across the room
I think about loneliness
but I am not lonely
I am holding on to hope
like it means something
behind the black curtain
of my secret life
I keep searching for
some kind of light
I feel the warmth of the
sun and I smile
I study the art of
simplicity
a shiver of emotion
sparks a reflection
of silver blue
I wrestle between
belief and truth
there is a milk white cloud
spilling across the sky
my thoughts skip
like stones upon
the still waters of
childhood memories …
Clay.M

All those nights
I spent alone
tangled in thought
wrapped in
winter dreaming
my breath against
the sky of
vivid blue
snow falling
like a ballet
so gracefully
on the pines
every scene
a painted picture
inside my mind
these are the
precious things
I know I will
find you here
you and your
beautiful lines
amongst the
soft blue mist
I pretend that
I am free …
Clay.M

One thing I love
is to wake up early
in an old city
just to walk around
its pretty streets
watch people do
early morning things
drink coffee with the
warmth of the sun
listen to conversations
that I don’t understand
and I wonder if old men
still write love letters
in early morning cafes
Clay.M