The Bridge


Your Hand










When again it weighs down;

The sodden splitting sandbag.

When it draws in

As smothered shadows

In a twisted twilight copse.

When breath constricts

And colours bleed to nothing.


When sunrise, day and sunset

Are the same.

When seasons pass

Unnoticed but in name.

When sea, and leaves

And blades of grass,

And prams and woodlice,

Focus pause,

And offer only pain.

I breathe





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