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
qmunicatemagazine.co.uk 