Rory Hudson Poems

Waking up at midnight
in a room without a view,
taking up a book, you find
no pages to look through.
...

Again and again, the ghosts of aeons past
walk the narrow corridors of your life.

Again and again, they call to you
...

(A haiku)

A child is singing:
even birds stop to listen -
...

Many have trod
this sandy beach
seeking for shells.
...

I wish I could have eased your pain
as once we walked along the path
that led along a grassy ridge
and round the hill, and back again.
...

They blend as one,
the ocean
and the man who stands
fishing by night.
...

This grassy path
leads nowhere,
and so pleases nobody.
...

Suddenly in summer on a dusty path
a fever takes me, and I see your face
again in the sweltering heat of blue-draped mountains;
or under smoky skies that clutch my throat
...

Vulgarly, among the irises of love,
there sprouts an ugly weed.

On humid, stinking summer nights
...

I thought I might have seen you again
in spring, in places where we lay among the flowers,
young and careless of the passing hours
that left us sighing and to yearn in vain.
...