Patchwork Person

They said that
life would be
lonely and
sometimes hard -
without hope.

But that's not
so bad. What
hurts is not
being whole -
wholly loved.

At days end to
traipse the snowy
pathway home
to where that
person listens.

Quietly
lets you tell
your good deeds
without thinking
you're boasting.

Instead, in
patchwork moments
stolen here and there
in comments and
appreciation

This person finds
a patchwork partner
to match the life
made lonely
in the living.

© Eleanor Clark
4 December, 2014

Autumn's Death

Iron blood
the air smelt

welling up

from the 

red, red leaves

strewn across 

like a carmine gash

of rotting foliage,

still dripping

from the arms

of skeleton

limbs and 

branches black -

Fluttering

red flames
of vegetation

fall, 

their dying

embers coagulating

across the

clammy cold

breast of earth. 

© Eleanor Clark

19 November, 2014

Beginning's End

I'm not sure
if this door
is the ending
to a beginning
that never was -

or perhaps
it lies on a path
marked out by
choice yet unmade
and the conversation

that has yet
to happen

It could end
in silence
and rending
heart-stopping
moment, or be

a sunrise to
something more.

No soothsayer
dreamcatcher
fortune teller
am I - but still
in hope, I wait

to see if this door
marks the beginning
that always was

and an ending
that was never
meant to be.

© Eleanor Clark
17 November, 2014

Life

Life is so strange
sometimes

In moments
where we wonder
if our regrets
are real -
imagined in
meditated moments

caught

between wondering
if the outcome
would be
the same

If I had held
your hand a moment
longer would
we be we
and not

you

I

separate

struggling
through the
mired steps
of winter
bare against the
sky

slick with
forgotten dreams
and
fragmented whispers.

© Eleanor Clark
11 November, 2014