Huh hmm
this lacking
but not 
missing him 
not much 
shine true 
some glimmer 
gone too
but this 
old copper 
kettle is 
happy with 
his bloom

He has taken his
place in my past
having not made the 
leap into my present 
I shall remember him
fondly as he was 
some people are meant 
to be alone while 
others to be lonely 

They’re all dead
or distant or
disgruntled I suppose 
maybe even disappointed 
or disgusted too
but I did
what I had 
to do could 
when I can
and what’s left 
is wasteland awash 
with trampled dreams 
soaking in the 
blood of hope
foolish these things 
are these campaigns 
but such is 
folly of men 

No I say
nay or neigh
as I gallop
my reins free
and flapping away 
as I run 
towards the mountain 
through the valley 
to the sun
wishing to see
this first time 
I am stallion 

I can’t speak 
for silence for 
she has her 
very own voice 
the kettles blurble 
the faucets swoosh
the moan of
floors begging me 
lay off cookies 
these little whispers
I haven’t heard 
before being busy
but now silence 
is my lover 
and in this 
she lovingly coos