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
...

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,
...

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,
...

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

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.
...