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.



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