Shirow Walker Poems

Sing little bird, I knew you first.
Your words so gentle; fell
and settled to cast a shadow
one night upon my window sill.
...

I am proud to be a frog, though I know not why.
The green of my skin, so utterly devine;
as to what others say, (to which I am blind)
'You are proud to be a frog, though we do not know why'.
...

To that last day, that final hour.
Upon those fleeting seconds,
When words like death to family seem dour
I will say, lay me to rest beneath the bower
...

Our love was not more than love
Extraordinary or out of the ordinary
Note worthy or otherwise more
It was forgiving
...

Mourn for the child that has gone into the thicket
Tangled and twisted up in its thorns
He is lost but still heard amidst the crows scorning
Go home will he no more
...

It matters not
Whether your beautiful
You are
It is your essence that I desire
...

For all he is, and once was
He is not now
His face has broken in youths folly
A smile has become it’s crown
...

Who will mourn for you but me?
My sorrow is enshrined in your laughter
Eyes that see only things that they wish to see
Words that you spoke without knowing
...