Boxes box us in
in metaphor and in life
even after death

Miracles happen
Then life goes on afterwards
And that's the hard part

There's no promise of
happily ever after
or happy enough

Like the butterfly
clasped by that smart little boy
we hold what we live

I took a sporange*

up with me to Mount Blorenge**.

Oh yes, I went there.

*In botany, the case or sac in plants in which the spores, which are equivalent to the seeds of flowering plants, are produced or carried.

** A prominent hill which overlooks the valley of the River Usk in Monmouthshire, southeast Wales. The summit plateau reaches a height of 1,841 feet (561 m).

Dad's body and soul
have broken up, and he's gone
finished with this gig

A student visits,
during his free, visits me,
we chill, and all's good

Dad's funeral's mud
is still stuck onto my shoes
even in the snow

Loneliness visits
when no-one else is around;
dear friend in disguise?