New Year (after Rimbaud)


The sorrows of loss and
of times past collide with the
shock of the new.
We measure the year
review what is trailing
behind through thick mist
of sentiment that drags
us back to the
days we’ve squandered. Comforting folds Read More

Golden Boy

Last night I dreamt
As I often do
That you came to visit
You were important
As always
The centre of attention
There was a gathering to celebrate you
Your magnificent you-ness
Your golden hair
Your monumental stance
Your creative mastery
People were milling around
Eating and drinking
Mirthful and murmuring Read More