Said and Done

That date less silence was never forgetting,

Nor nightly knocks on your memory’s door,

I woke to a few blank leaves that scattered,

Open between lessons on history and hope.

Had our words been sharp pebbles of shore,

Waves after wave could have dented clean,

And seasons of breeze and thunder shower,

The layered heat and dust of our daily grind.

Casting my nets far and deep into lexis flow,

I find not one idiom of flesh, blood and bone,

I retreat to ceaseless tide of days and shells,
Of what never was but what could have been.

(2013)