Shrapnel

If payphones took one-cent coins I could call the Hebrides And tell a fisherman About the collected copper cache Of a bits and pieces life: Autumn – All the lives we ever lived All the lives to be Full of trees and changing leaves (I had to borrow from another) But it is a lovely sight. Summer cries down And demands that afterwards, Afterwards, fine weather. Winter when we met, and no leaves; They grow again, Angry, jealous, dying While the April showers Wash the city clean. Falling To make an empty bed. The cinema – “Hey you,” I would say Like Humphrey Bogart But without the drawl. And I would take you in my arms And kiss you: A swoon and a thunderstorm In black-and-white and static. But it never works like that. So you’ll just have to believe me When I say That I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. A photograph – A thousand miles away And your eyes spoke to me. I had forgotten what colour they were.

 

< Prev		Next >