Anton Leyland Poems

Apologies to September, but you were a comedy.
October, you were as tragic as ever, and you made me old.
Still, I expect good things from November,
but I must be less of an idiot.
...

Perhaps it is clichéd to denounce cliché,
but I have to question the value
of marking the colour of your eyes.
They might be brown, blue, red, green -
...

I kissed your hair in the nothingness of morning.
I put my lips to your shoulder as still you slept,
replaced the blanket that kept you a child.
I lay my hand on your hip, and for a moment thought
...