The morning’s dark
earth throws up a deep perfume
of rotting leaves: exfoliates perfidious past
as I should do with me & you.
Our hands were tied
relooped & strung with childhood binds
they cut me from my soul & left me
hanging free above a world I couldn’t share.
This morning’s dark
& after all these years you’d think I’d find
a semblance of release but I’m not free:
the trees still shed their golden leaves.
But what of you & me?
How can we be so far apart & out of reach
when we said those heavy words that day,
to have to hold to honour & obey
till death should part:
but now I think that it may be
the only way……..
to glue us back together.