Lemon blossom sweet

at my window

 

far from Spanish hills

you bloom

 

I whisper to you

apologise for the pinch

 

of English spring:

no coronet of sun

 

to crown your

pretty head.

 

Your essence

soothes me.

 

Citrus scent

with undertone

 

of musk,

you must

 

miss your lovers.

 

Over on my sill

orange stares

 

at you,

less abandoned

 

compact & smugly

fruiting.

 

 

Who, ever thought

we’d live this long

 

grow grey & jowly

our spirits tired of

 

fighting.

 

‘’Forever’’ was

a misused word

 

bandied on the stage

of youth.

 

Here I watch the trees

watch, before & after me.

 

Those games we played

the songs we chose

 

to cleave to:

 

our children grown

from playing at our knees

 

are strangers now.

 

We never knew

we’d grow this old

 

our poets’ hearts

still singing, laughing

 

at the soft creep

of years.

 

 

Branches braided

like my hair

crochet window:

 

high up there

squirrels whirl

dance & weave

 

suspended

grace

grasping nothing.

 

It’s March, the dawn

is silver thin,

garden blooms

 

& cherry tree

 

unfurls impossible

pink, all of this

teeters in the sleet

 

fragile, hopeful

bursting free

from darkness.

 

House holds

its breath,

 

sighs out

the seasons

 

whisper of

lost memory

 

passing of the

centuries

 

like minutes.

 

Time holds

my hand

 

these kisses

that I knew

 

our love

so all consuming

 

has faded

to a smile

 

a passing

touch.

 

Yet spring is

in my haiir

 

the breeze

untangles

 

knots & hasps

it leaves us

 

open.

 

I’m unattached

& unacclaimed,

 

words upon

a page that

 

resonates: a phrase;

digs down deep

 

peels back skin to

blood & bone

 

where spirit cries out

for release.

 

I’m unattended

unacclaimed

 

this or that

nothing more

 

love’s still

knocking

 

at my door.

 

There is

no answer.

 

Narcissus hangs

heavy

 

filling room with

spring scent

 

the thought

of love.

 

Narcissus rang

again

 

talking always

of himself;

 

walked into

the mirror

 

of my eye

lodged there

 

unblinking.

 

Narcissus pink

feminine:

 

heavy petals

stroke the vase

 

promising to fall

as I might

 

under your

Narcissus thrall.

 

 

[Listen here ]

Spring tiptoes

in this year

 

acid green puffs

through old

 

crushed copper.

 

I tend borrowed

soil: earth crumbles

 

sensate, stuck sticky

beneath nails.

 

All is new, perfect,

intrinsic life:

 

I stand erect

like cherry attending

 

bumbling bee.

 

Haunting the twilight

I walk a fine line

 

nostrils flaming.

 

 

 

Moving east to west

here to there,

 

simulacrum:

 

tide turns time

to fragments

 

sand through my fingers.

 

‘Things’ seemed

so precious

 

now laugh

at me.

 

Children grow

like weeds

 

laughter in the trees;

 

now time’s a dream

hung in this moment

 

of becoming.

 

 

The sun woke me

today

 

warm across my pillow

lit the room, my eyes

 

opened to sky & spring

once more.

 

I couldn’t say goodbye

it wasn’t meant to be:

 

& now you’re gone

I have some letters

 

& my memories

to set me free.

 

As free as you are now

riding the wild blue thunder

 

ranting on the stroke

of midnight

 

stratospheric heights

denied

 

till now.