Terry Collett Poems

I received a letter
informing me
that you were dead,
had been dead
...

Seeking out a little nook,
we squeezed into a doorway
that was mostly locked.
...

If you close your eyes
you can see him, can see
how he was that last time,
that way he had of saying
...

There would have been something,
but nothing, that you know and understand,
and it is in the understanding
that the hurt comes, bites into you,
...

There was that time
and the time we made out
in your small room
with the sloping ceiling
...

The door opened
and your father gazed at me
with his dark eyes
and said to come in.
...

Your leg stump is chafed
where the artificial leg has rubbed.

The nursing nun was applying
...

Amsterdam was our last port of call.
We set up our tents at the base camp
and went into the city. We went and
saw the Van Gogh art; had a coffee at
...

Late Afternoon Muse 1962.

Late afternoon sun. 
The pond still: no 
...

Sheila was nervous
that John was meeting her
in the main town
between their villages.
...