Sunday, 10 April 2016

Found poem - from the Weekend Guardian

This is what has been written,
words scattered, evading capture.
We were being kids
a woman and a man in the park.
I walked towards your place,
felt fear and excitement in your touch,
eyes closed, I was blindfolded, all sensation.
Sun lit up the willow trees.
We kissed, encountered each other
through touch and conversation.
Former identities dissolved.

Now I sit alone.
I remember your voice.
The noise of birdsong overpowers me:
grief, anguish, devastation and bone-crushing pain
come up like a flood.
It wasn't your heart that exploded,
it was mine.