Something to do with Loss

Pregnant tears flow

To a world with better background tunes

Leaving barren bowls

Of desire.

Filling them’s the job

Of wet from sources elsewhere;

Sadness is on holiday.

The streaks of movement left behind

Pump sweet surrender out

Between the sullen lips

Tears cry for the missing

Lost among the breeze

And music plays a rhythm

Stirring up old dreams.

What’s gone today may be

Worth the tears’ departure

Scraping strands through hollowed gulleys

Will not bring it back.

So carry on with grief, my friend

Let the spirits up and rise

One tear passed on can lend a hand

To moving forth a bloom

And making space inside the bowl

For reveries unknown.

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