our feet tread on cautious shadows
fleeting swan feathers, running through shallow voices
fire my love, inside your spirit
bridle it and ride over the crescent
of moon, arched in perfect tension
a taught bow string; trembling silver fire
waiting for the quiver
hidden in the angel's hand
filled to overflowing with restless arrows
tumbling through the raven nights

the sun breaks through
another night and I have dreamt of you
now I'm not so sure--

of the shape of your face, your voice
a heartbeat underwater
your body

a frankenstein
stitched loosely with memories
of closeness

when the brain unclenches
its invisible fist
slowly, in defeat

all I have is my imagination
and a better girl
is fixing you now

The sun breaks through
and this time last year
I was in love with you

and hence

from the deep stillness of night
the mountain is awash in light
seductive and golden
as if born of a million candles
the quiet is not disturbed

here
they descend upon the land
their presence awakens and ignites the soil
of this charred rock
a hum pulses through every leaf and petal
every eye of every creature is affixed
unafraid and knowing
their blood surging with life

the children of the stars return
our father's fathers
come to save us

with a child's eyes I see
nothing but the present
and the present moment
is love and love is me.

the oasis of solitude
in the market place
is a poet listening.

even with its feathers
a bird learns to fly

practise poet
there's no substitute

for trying

I was sad  so sad
To see you go
Sad to hear
That whistle blow

I saw you sadly to the train
Knowing I'd never see you again

Another Lost love
Another Lost love
No farewell kiss
No tender hug
Just a heart of pain
And a waiting train

Lost Love Lost Love
Love Lost Lost Love

We hadn't long together
We changed just like the weather

As your train speeds away
There's nothing more to say

Another Lost love
Another Lost love
No farewell kiss
No tender hug
Just a heart of pain
And a waiting train

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere. UK  2017.

I am made of water

I first learnt it when, at age 13
I dropped a glass of it
And it trickled through my veins
As my father told me he didn’t know why he loved me

After that, every day I was kissed by sunlight
I shimmered
Like a pond lost in a forest of
Thought that no one visited

I used to look at my hands and wonder
Why I could see right through
The sinew
And bone
Into translucent fluid bubbling
Where blood red should be

But whenever someone deigned to hold
My shaking digits, I felt the cold
Of my insides freezing us both
Eventually, when they could no longer hold
My icy arms,
They let go
On their way to greener pastures

Then I would melt
Seek the sun,
Weep for joy at the torrents inside me
That flowed again

You cannot touch this liquid life
Unless your fingers are blessed by a burning
Unlike anything before or after you,

I long to simmer in a scalding embrace,
You whom I have yet to meet,
You who will boil my insides until
One day,
I disappear
Like a pond dried up in summer,
Its filaments caressing the sun,
Lost forever to the world below

Until after years,
I will rain again on gardens
That men will worship
And whose beauty,
(Nourished by a love that no one knows),
Will enshrine our embrace for generations

i met you in a bookstore,
you ordered coffee,
and we talked about the beauty of literature,
but mostly about comic books.

you said that we were superheroes,
under the glasses, the frizzy hair,
that we were something special,
and i started to believe you.

you told me that the first rule of being a superhero,
was that we were not to use capes.
so i thought, okay, no capes,
and we were one with the tapestry of the sky.

then like all superhero tragedies, you left,
your mask along with the crimson rose,
your stone still there,
a painful reminder of what was not there.

now i work alone,
teaching others how to bring hope in the secular age,
by teaching them the first rule: no capes.