February 23, 2017

Rubecula by Gareth Culshaw

You watch not far away
Standing chest first.
You wait as if for a bus, 

mind attached to the soil, 
heaved up skin of earth, 
a million years decay. 

I see death in your eyes,
deep afterlife. I dig and dig,
until a hole is big enough. 

Letting you leave this world behind. 
Once you are placed inside, 
your eyes look up.

I have no words, just a spade 
to tilt things back in.
Your leaving is the last thing I need.

Then when I turn my back 
you are there like a homeless 
man in a bin. 

Scratching for the tail end 
of the sinking worm. 
Guardian of the woods and me. 

Gareth Culshaw lives in Wales. He is an aspiring writer who hopes one day to achieve something special with the pen.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.