Thursday, June 10, 2021

TO BLUE


A desultory morning bobbed amongst
The ripples of ache and longing
Skirting the shores of your thoughts
And arrived at this evening ennui 

Tomorrow never comes 
I hope tomorrow never will
Now all I want to think is that you love me 
And pray for solace in that uncertain claim

Time

As the hours grow quaint
... faint, even
And weariness and crow's feet 
Emerge in morning mirrors
'Ten years hence' 
Looms like a phantom 
How would I remain that
Which you desire?