Thursday, February 14, 2008


"For Laura"

All the black spaces
falling lines
and frailties,
as real in your eyes
as the veins inside.

You know them, you hold them,
they are safe in your hands
because you, too,
do not hold glass to the light
to see its imperfections.

You know in your eyes,
in the spaces between pictures,
most gardens are tended
by disappointed men.

Leaves show their colours
in their frailty, in veins
and in life so often
long and listless,
grey and best forgotten.

You and I, in your eyes,
we will leave no mark
on the glass,
we will not wonder
from where the song came.


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