shrines

rushing the driven A road
a moments glitter
a stark flash the mud grass verge

cellophane reflecting sunlight
protecting summer colour flowers
this winter afternoon

on the roadside
by the place of death
the end of love

this often mourn
stones memorials
shrines in memory history

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

An earlier version of this poem was published by Never Bury Poetry in Autumn 2003.

ancient front