3 x 13

the day is pale with frost
birds huddle together on the wire
like paid mourners

the nurse told me I had mild concussion
and let me go
thirteen stitches seemed unlucky

that was thirty-nine years ago
three times thirteen
I do the sum
I count the cost

the day is pale with frost
birds huddle together on the wire

thirteen of them

beach hut

I rented a beach hut for the week
and kept it shuttered
it was golden inside
with walls of shimmering azure
beach huts in the rain
any colour you can think of
isn’t it a shame
no one’s going bathing

*

when we finally shed our bodies
and change
will we cower behind towels
on the shore
or will there be beach huts
I do hope there’ll be beach huts
any colour you can’t think of
beach hut

parchment 

the sky is orange
the mountain pale yellow 
I wrote on parchment 
words of great sorrow
words of great tenderness
left for tomorrow
love lies in pieces
nothing to follow

family portrait

that man I saw
sleeping by the sea
turned out to be a rock formation
little group of three

sleeping by the sea
sleeping by the sea
while his woman rocks the baby
back to sleep
tenderly

freehand

once
many years ago
I drew a perfect circle
freehand

I’m only telling you this
because of what happened next

I destroyed it
it disturbed me
it still does