Day: January 26, 2022
Made by Katherine
The wooden sides and base are worn to smooth
I stare into the river water soothes
London’s first clean water from far springs
Now your ashes mingle as birds sing
I cannot take them back,dissolved to mud.
Nor see your face again as a wife should
I let you go and set you free to fly
What kind of love is this that lets men die?
As you lay, your cubicle smelled sweet.
Peaceful as a heather moor retreat
While hearts burn
The sun broke through the fuzzy clouds of grey
Boris Johnson’s fiddling in dismay
Beige sky lightens with a hint of blue
On the leaves a coat of frosty dew.