One- Phrase Raven

When the name, emerging from

Gothic candle shadows,

Became familiar,

It all started to

Shuffle into place:

A time, a plot, a face.

The garrulous

Be afraid parrot

Becoming the One-phrase raven.

No surprises there.

So … why am I

Going back to that well?



My Fault ?

Where did they go,

Those thought-bright fishes?

Those that filled my eyes?

Fleet-fast orange, blue, silver

Coral-circus dazzle-dancers:

There, then not, then flash-back

Again; noiseless yet crackling

Like electric sweet wrappers,

Organic, fluid metal gems.

Where are they now?

On kite-sun evenings

Like these,

I miss them so.

The endless, God-chain

That surprised me constantly

With form, with size, with flight;

With spikes, with might, with fight:

Challenged my very perceptions

Returning from fossil dawn waters.

Will I ever see them,

Their like again,

Those angel-dream darlings?

That fed my soul,

That kept me whole

Mornings like this

I find I need them,

That I grow smaller

In their absence.

If their disappearance

Was my fault –

That perhaps I took

Them for granted –

I hope they will accept

That I realise

How wrong I was.