How the Spring brings Empty Bowls…

The collage’d face of winter’s tree
Leaves a longing long set free
Shuttered clothes we never wore
Washed by winds long overdrawn
A tressled lamp what swings the shade
Through these over-faded days
The wicker on the porch for years
What bore so many fallen tears
Comings, goings, coppiced love
Coffee in a broken mug
The troubles of a whittled brain
Left to start again again
Defenceless to the very end
Nothing wanders, nothing pends
It’s then like boats, we all must shove
A boy will kick his dusty cuff!
Boots on memories folded thick
Spiders sprawling, springing sticks
This is how the rocks will roll
and how the spring brings empty bowls
My beautiful picture

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s