Did I Cry? Why?

On waking up in the morning
I felt the smears of tears
across my cold cheeks,
with the gory image
of the last evening
of a sparrow killed
by the neighbour's cat
still burning my eyes.
'Did I cry? Why?'
I wondered aloud.
The walls replied,
'Because we could not.'

©Portia Burton

little purple flower
In a desert of scree
waits for a butterfly

     (me, too)

...the meadow and the puddle
you wouldn't come out of

wild and simple joy

invisable to eyes, now...

I wander the meadow grass

the fields where the flowers glow
in early morning
sunlight

the fields you
only dream of
where your soul is always free...

and you come running
spectral through the mist,

I walk lonely fields