September Fires 28/09/24

Sophia

A building bestrode my dreams,

tall enough to kiss the stars,

And yet call upon the clouds as brothers.

Under the mighty dome a blackbird flew,

flitting as if beneath the arch of heaven.

Passing from sunlight through quick-forgotten shade and back again.

It did not sing,

but as it passed,

lament did follow.

What Might Be Left Behind

I will die with words unsaid.

Bleached bone lips hiding a thousand untimely thanks.

The living won’t hear me,

and the ghosts don’t care.

I’d say I still have time,

but fear makes sport of ticking clocks. 

So I write this for those not past when I went on. 

I always liked you.

I remember your jokes.

You always danced like firelight. 

I never forgot your smile. 

I can still taste your cooking. 

I wish we’d talked more.

Or that I’d listened.

Even when you said nothing,

it meant everything to me.