My wine glass
shed a tear...

In Kuwait
a sheep is slaughtered...

My mind....shredded like a bale of straw
caught in the most violent storm...

...they came every Friday
to their bench by the lake...

Outside my window
a man and his dog stroll by...

Blue in colour with a hint of red
one calming, one inviting...

The spider takes up residence
in the corner...

It's dark as I lie here...
The rest of the house still nestled in sleep...

Empty
life regressing...

Outside my window
a naked fig tree shivers...

Souls, left to wonder
in the uncertainty of...

Com(pell)ing to some
a paedophile of the cloth...