Poem:16 George

on a shifting
pillow of dreams
child like, my child
harp like, my love
curled light
and singing
see how the angel
brings her
the world
on a pillow
of shifting dreams.

___________________

how should I paint
the day
that you left
as leaves
that dance
against the wind
as a tree
that leans
against the sky
as an autumn rose
that struggles
to hold its colour
as the rain
that had no beginning

or should I leave it
charcoal and hanging
as the day
that you left.

_____________________

and still
it comes forward
the song
at the back
of my head
its there
and will not
let me go
I cannot
understand
the words

the sea has it
the sky has it
the earth had it

now my
faithful singers
where do we go
from here.