“Questions?”

5 Sep

“Questions?”

Why are you so far away?
What ails you?
Where have all our children gone?
Are there pewter tulips?
A joy from the past keeps shaded,
stays alive,
wrings jewels and nips from bent towels.

Weather may come to cast,
and yet this ailing is a missing you,
a supplanted grove,
a cool and warm desire
is what ails you,
a tinker box which rubs the dock
the green bottle of ale for you
because the forgotten is heartbroken
but the joy is safe.

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