At First


you were secret:

 

a half moon

caught by the ocean

a voice amongst

the rafters

 

a hidden wing

leaf

and pool of light

 

But

 

fluttering jewels

were soon eclipsed

 

and bitter holes

punctured mealtimes

 

as loose water

fell

on pale afternoons

 

Yet

 

still you came

with whispering lips

 

that burnt words

to charcoal marks

 

upon my bowed

white

brow of bone

 

And so

 

the leafless land

rinsed its boughs

 

and love fled

amid the summer flood

running names

back

into silt and mud.

[Millie Earle-Wright]

Image courtesy of Freya Pellie

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s