Martin Swords Poems

Overcast but warm,
The day dry, unusually.
Walking the woods with the dogs
As many times before.
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I know Bob Dylan well.
Grew up with him,
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Breakfasts were special.
Two plates.
Two eggs.
Together.
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A fractured home
A distanced heartache

A chopstick, an empty cup
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Bookmark
by Martin Swords
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He had only one more gift to give,
the manner of his going.
He had only one short life to live,
and only now was knowing
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On back a bedroom door
A hook, a cap, untouched
This many year. The head
That wore it laughing
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It’s an Artificial Paradise
Here in the Vale Da Plenty
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I saw myself on T.V.
I think. In black & white
on channel four, tonight.
My Doppelganger from 1938.
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Despised Crow
Who loves you
But another Crow.
Blessed with ugly grace,
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