James Gallacher

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Best Poem of James Gallacher

Mourning View

As dawn’s grey fingers
Snatched back the night
A living, breathing corpse
Woke to watery sunlight.
Blood oozing from his skull
Blood fading from his veins
He realised long too late
He’d lost that which was never a game…

I take a picture of you
Hold it to a candle light,
Taken before colour bled from life.
Before this mourning view…

A window framed fractured
A mirror image paled
To sordid indolence.
And as the sun rose I saw
Nothing but black;
And as the sun froze I knew
That no one would laugh -
Again… ...

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