Back to the window

my back’s to the window and I can’t see
anything natural in front of me
just paint and plaster and more technology
an office crammed full of humanity
my back’s to the window and I can’t see
the aqua-blue sky teeming with birds flying free
or the cloudy wisps pushed by the atmospheric breeze
or the trees with their fluttering leaves
or the ivy on neighboring roofing tiles growing green
just the unnatural light of my computer screen
my back’s to the window and I can’t see

A kyrielle

Most of my poetry is free verse (I’m lazy), but I wanted to try something different this time. I decided to write a kyrielle because I liked the name.


I sit in shadow here alone,
Mind locked in a broken tower,
Where once a kinder sun had shone
Quiet ‘neath a leafy bower.

Once, eyes bright and hair windblown,
Far more fair than spring’s sweet flower,
My love’s soft lips caressed my own
Quiet ‘neath a leafy bower.

Now, death’s touch chills blood and bone
Despair and pain my soul devour
Her absence screaming from each stone
Quiet ‘neath a leafy bower.