Stay that heel
assassin of night,
dont make me dead just yet
for my head is too full of random errands
to be the death I must eventually become.
And while the minds eye tumbles over boggy meadows
my heart slices the khardoma sun,
needing one more blink
to breathe before I suffocate.
And then after sips of maple syrup
will I fold my cadaver
into fountains of earthy whiskers
and give my morbid hand to the tantrum shore...
©Steven Francis poems 2013
'The Heron Ponds' is the 7th collection of poetry and short stories from Welsh poet, writer and blogger Steven Francis. Enjoy!
