All down the afternoon`s
long shadows,
you listened to
the sum total
of the silence and
I blessed you for
the tea and hobnobs.
And you spoke
about Iscariot,
about his doubts
and betrayal.
How we were
just like him,
his coins were everywhere.
Later, in the morning,
we watched Monday clouds
blown across
a ragged sky.
And the January sun
turned the room
to silver.

Comments
Silver Spun Sand | March 3, 2010 - 23:44
Hobnobs...so moreish. As is this.
Gilbert | March 4, 2010 - 06:09
My faves-thanks for the kind comment.