digging deep into
her pockets she pulls out handfuls...

leaves swirl through the air
as trees shed their summer coat...

I do recall, when life was sweet
we’d play hop-scotch upon the street...

I row my teaspoon through my coffee
mulling over water that has passed...

scrounging
hounding...

Upon my shoulders
either side...

A Raven-ous croaking;
echoes of haunted...

Meandering along the Jurassic coast
salty air stirred echoes of nostalgia; history...

Should I relinquish the
pain and torment...

Clouds; collude for a stormy charade
thunder; echoes a grumbled demise...

beneath a black-netted curtain;
her face simmers in a sombre shade of pale...

Isnt it just a damn shame
as we are all part of the same game...