shrines

rushing the driven A road
for a moment I glimpse glitter
a stark flash in the mud grass verge

it's cellophane reflecting sunlight
protecting summer colour flowers
in this winter afternoon

on the roadside
by the place of death
by the loss of a love

this often renewal
the stone tower before the Norfolk border
the shrines by the roads of history

each is a sculpted wake
to the shocked imploding loss of love
we all suffer



This poem was published in Never Bury Poetry 59 (Autumn 2K3).

poem

2K3:6

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