Nick Judt Poems

I often wonder about the shadows
That follow us wherever we go
They appear when the light is burning brightest.
And fade when the sun has ceased to shine.
...

Rain pitter-patters on my window pane
Collecting on the glass in sad designs
I sit inside next to my blazing fire
My glass eyes staring straight through the flame
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10
The feeling of a mother's hand, gently brushing against your cheek as you lie in a field of rain. The coarse softness of her fingers as they slide down the flesh of your face, smoothing your features and carving a path towards the universe of light that slides through your vision as you shut your eyes and weep silently into her shoulder. “It's over, ” she whispers gently into your ear. “It's over.”

9
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