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COME AGAIN
You have come again
To thieve me of my peace;
Flowers suspended in tea,
Smooth sheets,
A life measured
In small pleasures.
My tongue stumbles
Over a new lexis;
The glottal stops
Of solitude.
This is no house of cards
That I have built,
To tumble at your passing.
THE THREE GORGES
Drowned, my town,
Its ferry port and slipways,
Its square, cement
Apartment blocks.
Drowned, my town.
Its tiny terraces and trees,
Its dark, heaving
Alley ways.
Drowned, my town.
Its white goats
And black butterflies,
Its stone bridges,
Float underwater.
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