Wednesday, February 07, 2007


How they flutter
in the brain’s
quaint chambers,
those we loved
before we knew
love for more
than a casual,
affable torment:
as though not
a day had passed;
luminous, ambered,
stuck in the brittling
pith of the mind.


pundy said...

That's beautiful, John. Thanks.

John said...

Thank you, Bill. Nice to see you...

Minx said...

Better late than never Pund, and did you see, he's got blue letters an' all now?