cahen thrips Poems

Every autumn you took a photograph
of the last leaf remaining
on the Japanese cherry outside our window.
...

The weather forecast promised sun
but it rained on Birdsong instead;
so I stayed here and felt guilty.
...

What does she see in him?
He reminds her of old books; that's what attracted her,
not his looks but
fragrance of his parchment skin,
...

you are chalk & I am cheese;
somehow you became my smorgasbord
while I write poetry on your blackboard
...

Your hair's bedecked with snowdrops;
at your feet the first greening of crocus
and in between a solitary golden aconite
pushes through the lignite soil's fuse.
...

My dog can smell cancers, detect
drugs in lead-lined trunks,
is pretty good at finding truffles;
he'll track a murderer over wet moorland,
...

today I framed two of your pictures
startled owl and lugubrious hare
displayed them on shelves in the living room
where previously walls were bare
...

You held on when summer gales
peaked; firm berries clustering
in falls; through leaves I watched you
bend and spring to every bluster,
...

I talked to a man who stood on a ridge
looking across a valley towards
the rise of Goatfell.
...

i should like you to read aloud my poetry
though poems can't vouch for my love
because they are mere words
...