Untitled

There is

nowhere to run

Each direction seeks blood sacrifice
dipped in
atonement for sins
real and imagined


My sec tells me
she has never seen me staring at nothing
before
but she has just never noticed
how unfocused I have become
my eyes roam from the white painted blocks
to the grey of everything else.

The paperwork
gathers
a neatly typed storm
shot through with gloom
and rain laden portents
the pages heavy with distinct requirements

I'm writing poetry
to stave off the ghosts and ghouls
for here
within the bright womb of words
the clammering is made still
and I can just barely
hear me in the distance
calling like Heathcliffe
a voice
lost on the moors

You cannot reach me
my Catherine
frock billowing in
the buffeting wind
which swirls around us

I know you try
but the patterns are already
at a stage where
to change design
would destroy the whole
and it just cannot be undone
as we might wish

I do see you
but as an inanimate object
another beautiful item
to grace this tired world

As your imploring
sails past my becalmed
impassive resignation
I wave
because we were so glorious
carving the ocean
a blade of perfect narrow
perception
honed to gleam beneath the sun