Sport 19: Lightworks
In Spring
In Spring
The dogs are lying
in the sun
they abandon themselves to it.
The easterly won't stop
thrashing the blue sky
the wild trees
the disoriented birds.
I have been in pain
for days now
though you wouldn't know
it, it is hot and red
and cunning, I am a slave to it.
All this time alone
and concentrating. I wonder
where it is that you go
and why you won't return?
I stand aching
under the wide dark sky
amazed by the cold light
of the stars.
How frail we are.