Seven Short Pieces Poem by Andy Brookes

1
October is a feral month
winds of change strips trees
as surly as it ripped you from me
leaving me bare of leaves.

2
Light through windows shine
within lies domesticity
without loneliness

3
The days are colder
My thought unfixed
The jigsaw's unfinished
It lies waiting on the table

4
Dust gathers
In upswept corners.
The sink filled in disarray
With unwashed dishes.

5
The day dawns an inexorable
An amber jewel of pain.
This calendar day with its regularity
Recurs, its ripples disturb.

7
In memory the scene progresses
Before my glaciated eyes,
An endless reel.
Playing in cool perception