We had two good days,
Before the silence fell.
Fell blooming like trees and,
Flowing like the rivers.
All around this space that used to be us,
In part, and in whole.
That has left only a vacancy of what fell to dreams.
With a quick snap of fingers,
And of unthought-of impulse.
We choose to be less, and have less.
Only to be left with a dozen odd socks,
Unmatched, but lying neatly in a row, on an unmade bed.
The Car’s play in the background,
I know that you are broken,
Something I can never renovate.
As the Robin’s outside my window freeze and,
Choke on the berries they swallow.
All around this space that was never us.