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Poem

A WINTER MORNING AT THE HARBOUR               
(For two Lovers)


Two People are making plans;
Their hours run by – spent,
moving behind their mirrors,
underneath plan “B” boils
unknown to both!
And! As promising as it seems,
building one-way dreams,
while the sand leaks, the glass empties.
But the promises grow;
Very – slow.

Excuses surface quicker than 
the moving of their dry chapped lips,
the stranger can taste, her dreams
he cannot see the rough sea, looks over
her narrow shoulder, 
A fleeting glimpse,
she splits herself in four!
He has split himself before,
Betrayed his wife
Cheap at the price;

Out of the plate of his choice
he picks at the crumbs behind her voice
underneath it falls apart.
So, many frozen waves, of sea,
and good-byes, while the snow flies.
Stranger sees this from-
her small shoe box of dreams
and his head in the shed schemes,
holding hands, tied by the lifeless stove,
while the Seagulls cries sleet in the snowflakes.

The day, the shore, freezing cold feet;
Selling the crown jewel’s
It comes down to this day,
being free of thoughts, priceless;
Their embers from the fire within
furiously flying to escape!
Into the flames go her dreams;
A repeated chance!
Into the flames go his cares,
burnt with their stars.

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