It must be all that rain endlessly spattering on to the skylight in my attic today that’s turned me sombre……
It was in deep shade wasn’t it,
that bank where spindly ferns
crammed the crumbling earth?
And there were random blades of grass,
high and coarse, but yielding to our touch.
Yes, I thought as much.
There were trees
plastered against a smoking sky
and a splintered bench in shadow
where we shivered,
wondering why the touch of evening
made us groan like unfed cattle
on a stricken plane.
was it worth it
under a sky now throttled blue?
What damage did we do
you to me
and me to you?