In the sunken duress
of our fathers’ joy
Pin up the garden rage
for a display of bellicose roses
cheat the sin
of quickened indifference
and bask under too much covers
where your hiding composes
erubescent dissolving memories
- Not previously published. Written after a dry spell of not being able to write anything for a few weeks. To be featured in forthcoming collection that has gone by too many tentative titles to be worth mentioning.