You run through
unseen lanes
of
my mind
trampled nettles
wild primroses
why
back so
soon?
I taste you
still from
before
on my lips
in my
throat
like
a cough.
Time’s blowing
through the
tree tops
as I search the
sky -
you in
some other
country
I’m
laying on
damp grass
observing
my loss
in winter’s
other
sky
so cold-
so empty
That aura of
youth
dancing in
auburn hair
now lies
a
single scarlet
stiletto
dismembered
in a
ditch.
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