New Shoes in My Hands.
Early morning he sleeps in my bed
Gently moving the sheets in my dreams.
Above the rivers of sleep
late for the dawn
.....geese rise in the sky
He steps out of the bed
Naked before me his body’s a line
against light....
His limbs move like a wintry tree
But his lily of white folded petals
is soft...
Making no sound ...like a doe
he crosses the floor to the door
As the sun slowly moves
...from the east to the west
His shadow falls west to the east over me
But I know it won’t last.
In the leaves of my bed
Looking out on the room
He will not return
It is cold ...
And I know...
The street down below
Is a street to be crossed
With new shoes in my hands.
Kristine Byrne...2013