moon cinema

I saw you last on a bookshelf
Jammed between a greasy cookbook
And a peeling novella in serif so small
That malice was its only purpose

You had not been opened
But passed on, passed over, left
Half asleep, half awake
A trance of in breaths…

There was a  lamp and its tender spectral gleam
The sharp tang of the coldest night
The old game of finding words
Some magic utterance –
I would’st I did not care
That even poems weep.

Veronica Aldous 2017 all rights reserved

Picture shows my book Moon Cinema edited by Bart Wolffe 1952-2016.




About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Lulu.com. Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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