Veiled.

Soft, delicate colours.

Summer rain drifting through greenery.

Water glistening on your skin
Reflects the bright face of the moon
Glimpsed through the bedroom window.
Faults in the glass distort the image.

I am sure of few things, sometimes your smile,

The touch of your hand in the dark.

                     *

I wake up with a start,
You are not here beside me.

I walk from room to room in a daze.
The coats are all dusty. You are nowhere to be found.

I was sure you were with me all through the night:
Five years gone by           but you have not altered.

I can still feel the warmth of your hair on my fingers;
Read the depths in your eyes for hours.

                    *

Soft, delicate colours.

Summer rain drifting through greenery.

In a month or two you shall be back here with me,
But the waiting chokes      like a mouthful of sand.
The morning rain cold on my skin,
The wind is stinging my cheek bone.

I turn to the north and whisper your name.

This garden is dappled with memories.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
August 14th. - 21st. - 29th. 2018.