Friday, April 17, 2009


An Already Swollen Harbour

the harboured resentment of a wasted lifetime
floating in the silken grey milk of crepuscular light

memories like matches
burning brightly one moment,
only the slight essence of sulphur
on a shifting north wind, the next

sadness waves from a flagpole in the yard,
loneliness refuses to leave a burning house,
bitterness plants a victory garden in a downpour

the rain swelling an already swollen harbour
of resentment with the sullen grey milk of regrets

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