I measured the steps
From the back screen door,
Past the rock water well
And the garden plot,
Down the gravel drive.
The crush of stones beneath
Were the sounds of anticipation.
At the end,
The road stretched and ribboned,
Grey, beneath the harvest sun.
I numbered the fence posts
Up to the tree with embedded wire,
Demarcating the next acre.
The telephone poles like guards
With cats-of-nine tails,
Red-winged blackbirds and wrens
Hanging on trapezes, upsidedown,
With rigamortis clutches.
The few cattle stood cooling in the pond,
The chickens pecked the farmyard dung.
Each day my steps imperceptibly decreased,
Speeding up the monotony of my walk.

I missed the sheep shaped clouds,
But saw them move
Across verdant dales,
Following the stream,
Like lambs.

Today, I look out my kitchen window
To see where my son,
My disheartened, lonely boy,
Counts the steps to Brigden Sideroad,
Feeling the gravel
Hard beneath his feet.

I sense a distance
almost imperceptible
but there
like the silent breath
of a ghost
or the cry of a dying star

something has left your smile
your touch
a second split into timeless truth
your hesitant kiss
sends a thousand shards of ice through my heart
the light that once flickered
is gone from your eyes

there are nights
when the moon cannot be found
and the stars hide behind unseen clouds
on these nights
I turn to thoughts of you
that arrive on waves of  imagined shores
and saturate like sand the open wounds of memory
the images painful
yet consoling
distant  
yet within reach
here I will drift to sea
live a dream I will not remember

and I shall curse the morning rain
for taking you away

THE LOST RACE

They have lived in a time capsules
Cocooned in a foundation of lie
History and windmills of times has hastily passed their sluggish body
The cold desert wind and the ****** splatter of raindrops has swept and washed their age to saint nowhere
High in the realms of heaven sad sun has risen million times casting a halo of fiery fire round their territories
Angels gods and demons have raged eternal war for the very soul of these immortal mortals
Clock has circumnavigated its face million times and yet their hearts have been adamant
Hardened like the frozen Antarctica not even the hades fire can defrost them
Upon this wicked world they have nested forever awaiting no judgement
Cobwebs of wickedness have wove round their blackened heart
Their heartbeat resounds like Poseidon's trident as they pump their filthy blood
With wax stack ears they haven't perceived the drums of the forthcoming war that have been echoing over the peaks of snow capped mountains
Tattoos and ceremonial colours paints their bodies not in readiness for the war but defiance
When the moon awakes it ferociously beg for the night to die to escape the nightmare of shining to this lost race......