We are poets
We take up no room
We have only
The pen
And the sheet of paper
Under our feet
Ants climb hills of Jam
As in the trees
Crows gather
In silence
As omnious as
Stormy weather
Then disperse
Like mourners from
A graveside
With their
Uncomprehending
Loss.
We are a poem
Away from grief
We can chase souls
Almost
But never escape
The page.
.
Malcolm Paul
Picture Nick Victor
.