a candle burned
flame sunk
into the column
of its body
tears viscous
with lives lost
cum cloudy
with ghosts
of lives
never lived
sparrows dream songs
within the walls
pirouette upon rusted blades
across scorched streets
dissolve into the spray
of their own sparks
rust and ash
pollen and snow
caves will call
to the sky
sky will become
ceiling
walking with you
turned fields
into prairies
I wonder if the candle
is sucking smoke
back into its body
silhouettes pirouette
with the shadows
of marionettes
songs soft as September
whispers through the grass
you were the wren
that led me
through the reeds
that stroked my sides
feathered my face
my favourite bit
when you appeared
around the bend
at the end of my street
come to meet me
the ghost of gold
on an autumn night
stitched together
with neon thread
your black dress
splashed by the sirens
from the cries of the city
your red heels
sparked the sealskin
of the pavement
drains choked with fire
I see you
the suits of shadows
lined with gold
you speak in song
sing to the robin
about how your heart
rusted red
beneath summer sun
share the shadow
of a brolly with you
within its soft circle
we’ll listen to the rain
in each other
you’re the leaves that foxtrot
with the tatters of a plastic bag
in the blustery corner of my deserted courtyard
become young again
twirled by the world-weary wind
that still remembers how to dance