William Richards

I am haunted by the river.
It courses through my veins,
washing all my thoughts and hopes away,
like yesterday's leaves and mud,
...

Sudden March winds carry high black
birds drunkenly across the blue grey above
the dark line of snaking cars below,
between the bending trees and sullen grass,
...

I gave you my heart
and you took it from me.
I paid for the ring, and the church, and the house,
you gave me that smile,
...

I bought her flowers.
Not the bright, multi-coloured kind,
like the colour of my love for her,
but the subtler shades of cream and white,
...

Come Battalions of B's and Divisions of D's,
Infantries of I's join with Companies of C's,
form ranks of words more numerate than these,
let us march on the politicians bringing truth to its knees
...

The muffled boom, boom, boom,
the soundtrack to the ghosts behind my curtains,
chasing shifting shadows across my silent room.
...

We rage against the Robin's song,
the leaf assaulting breeze,
snarling smiles on the stranger's face,
the menacing sway of gnarled branches
...