'Cracks in the Mirror' Poetry & photography: poetry and social comment
Changing weather
There was spring, flowers and green
grass, leaves
on trees , the lot, and I thought of immortality.
God has thrown everything at me and
I had been
prodded by doctors who all had
eccentric opinions
about my illness and I had
survived.
I looked heavenward inhaled without
coughing
and saw darkening clouds coming
from the north
an incoming wind had the icy breaths of
Siberia
and the rain came like cold showers
given to boys
at the home who could not keep their penises
just innocently hanging there.
I came home, was sent to bed, not
for my sexual
prowess but to stop me getting a
cold; I thought of
Stalin mother liked him he looked
so cool, not that
she would have said that it is me
picking up words
from Facebook and I know how to give five
fingers
not one, I used to give passing
motorists; we live
in an age of overdoing things.
Tomorrow the sun will shine again I
can go for a walk
and pretend it shines just for me,
the winter had tried
a com back and failed
