An aversion to
the kettle in the kitchen.
Hidden from my sight,
a cup of tea calls to me;
the kettle sits in the bin.
Tag: tanka
an untouched soul waits
transient lovers pile up high
another sunset
she pens the sky a letter
a love letter to the hues
Rain drops on Wood
rain drops fall slowly
droplets splash on to the wood
sorrow seems fleeting
touching the wood that is you
tactile grief in letting go
