this morning’s heartraw, an exquisite echo of desire;
birds and leaves tumble in the wind,
gusting, whirling, mad dreams all but breaking
in the heave, the violence of air;

part of me is jousting with the clouds,
the rest a swallow of unfinished rhythm
choked on winter’s pressing need
to turn the savage wheel : my hands are tied to it;

precious little mercy to be gained from what-ifs
silent gulls crusade in freeflow
they know how to ask for more than sky;
self destruction’s teasing lips moistened with fine rain

One thought on “swallow

  1. Paul Squires says:

    Soul escaping poem into the sky poem. But it is a grey and difficult sky, swirling and tumultuous. Another beautifully made poem. You’re back! Hello again, I missed you,


    Paul, you soooo get to the Heart of what i write .. must confess to being in full-on mushy mood … the uplift after struggling in grey skies i think … gotta sink a bit before the rise, eh? anyway, i’m not trying to be clever in my writing at the moment .. no tricks or guessing games, just the loving Centre of it all … apologies if i sound like Hallmark! LOL

    Thanks, dear friend … always here for my returnssss …

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