Cave of the Storm Nymphs

A poem about deadly pretty things

Cave of the Storm Nymphs

Let me call you a storm pull you laughing into lucent waves My pretty sisters loll and languish in flickering cave light tricketting with baubles while sailors drown and drown Come to me we wil be air

A Twitter of Harps

A Twitter of Harps Birds harpsinging can't call him all their notes are airborn trills to vacant sunlight he has been taken to the chill of ocean deeps by our Nannie with her cutty sark

Bluebells

Spring woodland

The Secret Life of Trees

The train paused and crept past invisible monkeys leaping from tree top to tree top the trees winterstick canopies bent waving like fronds in a tidal pond The earths green skin leaked
Cherry

The 30th of Julia

The 30th of Julia The 30th of Julia is not a sad dissected piece of forensic detritus bagged, tagged, and labelled a toe perhaps or an ear a plane crash remnant or evidence of a bad bad man
Cherry

I am Norse

It seems I am Norse the curve of one dead girls cheek and her eyes looked out of my college yearbook another and anothers red angel hair is mine