Hope is a broken toy on an unmown lawn
Weeds and unmet needs growing through
in twisting accusations
and a face turned away from the truth
I can hear Jen
on the phone from London
her smile
ragged and edged
with regrets
the delay
here to stay
I am
filled with sand
the weight
drawing us down
into the soft grey embrace
of an empty sea
You brought
waves
and white caps
you brought
dried sea shells
and the waters song
The hum of errosion
lapping at my fingers
filling hands with
salt stained seclusion's
Tonight i will dine
on mixed metaphors
and upended imagery
profer it to you
in all its disturbed
irrational disfunction
drink deep of my
my minds last distant
distilled weaving
for I am leaving
no legacy
