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Poem

Sun is held hostage by a blanket of clouds,
reflecting an agitated addict's ashtray.
Birds depart from soaked naked branches,
as eyes seek refuge from the ugliness of change.

I peer beneath this umbrage pitched upon the ground
anticipating a palette of summer to simper back
yet all I see are stick figure shadows frolicking
as this bitter autumn wind encircles me

Symphonies of the sky continuously weep.
I watch petals float in puddles of regret,
so I reflect back to a summer of mon amour,
where Michelangelo hands sculptured my garden.

Reflecting back, delicate strokes within velvety folds
as fingers trace the edges of my heart's blossom
crimson drops slip silently between my hands
for even the beauty of a rose holds autumn's thorns

Secure from rustic debris that blow against windows,
5pm twilight, means no rekindling with my cherished sun.
My shortened days lash back through glares of street lamps
with frosty glass etchings chiselled by night's harsh breath.

Collaboration with Sandra Adams
Silent One
20 October 2019

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