On broken tears, the naked flesh
Embalméd in a silent misery;
Twilight dreams surrender to the dark,
Unflinching in its callous strain
Of time for time, and now to life,
And in the new-found morn
Denies the early past,
A twilight yes, but not the dark,
The love but not the love,
No seepage from the heaven learned,
For naked flesh in daylight feels undone,
And cries as convicts for the mother’s womb.


June 1978 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1978-2011