It won't leave me,
This quiet foreboding,
Here, but not, among the trees,
Born of dreams that scratch
Hopes with shards of memories,
Unease and restlessness,
Like the lonely crows
Scraping broken earth
And laughing bleakly at
This grave of days.
October 2019
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Fragments And Reflections
PoetryPoems looking at everything and anything not in my other collections. Here you'll find life and time, wild oceans and lonely coast paths, busy streets and empty hotel rooms, wild concerts and late night writing. All just fragments and reflections, l...
