Monday, 11 May 2009

May Day

 Though standing tall

Slight hands betray you,

The Signature of your mother,

Carried through death

Whispers fragility.

Swaying birch thin,

Waving out lost

 Amongst a forest

 Of silver and black,

 May poling around, you

 Dance outside yourself,

Wrapping up in ribbons

Your heart, to stand

Just apart from love.