Avalanche


You started an avalanche
in my head;
Four hundred months came crashing down.
I scouted round for succour,
saw no-one.


You whipped up a whirlpool
in my bed;
Sweet flotsam sheets spawn feather death.
Struck out for any harbour Ė
there was none.


You set up a search light
in my shed;
Probed corners grim and ghosts galore.
Found distant dusty demons
are no fun.


You painted a rainbow
when we wed;
Bright baubles hung like juicy fruit.
Letís pick them now, and shimmer,
in the sun.

 

 

 

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