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.
...

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

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,
...

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
...

don't write it in a letter
or send it as a text:
whisper it.
...

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,
...

I'm never alone for Fancy is always with me.
She's sometimes coy and teasing; other times
she loops her arm through mine and holds me
against her. Often she emerges with tilted head,
...

This dog with mange shadows me everywhere;
I try to shake him off but he's determined
to stray into my life.
...

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.
...