Meadow At Westminster Ponds

a few lines written today whilst remembering his grey

you come to things walking paths you used to know looking aroundI foundno secrets in the shadowsso far, far awaynow you come to thingsrenewedin your mindlurking behindtheir eyesthat can not hidelooking back at youa face you remembernow different, somehowreflectivelost in yesterday’s fearsthat once upon a time place so, you come to thingsways of looking at myselfanewfrom deep insidewhere the monsters used to hideand stare them … Continue reading a few lines written today whilst remembering his grey

so long my month of many colours, even so

like whispers from the shadowy corners of the past an old song on the radio yet the frequency is different and doesn’t come in as clearly – sometimes oh, October October, from the first to the last of deaths and loss and promises broken and childhoods that cannot be denied came that September day smashing and crashing as he finally turned and stared it all … Continue reading so long my month of many colours, even so