★ ★ ★ ★
Image by Corsin Taisch
Bleeding sinuses and a running nose
can be a sign of cancer, but also of
an infection, and anyway you can drink
with the one but not the other. It’s
been raining again, as if it will
do so forever, despite the tree
blossom and daffodils and snow-drops
and crocuses and the tulips that make
lie of the new season,
but then again she’s been drinking,
and the nights are a mess of random
black-outs and blood and other small
indignities, the things that you used
to enjoy but can no longer, and dreams
in which the moon hangs in a frosty sky,
regardless, how you plucked it and set
it in the empty eye-socket from which
it stared back cold, and regardless, too.
You tried to explain why, but
I wasn’t listening then, either.
It has been five years
It has been five years, and we
were painting the same room then
too, holding to the same false
hopes. Waiting for the grass to
be long enough to mow, and for
the apple tree to blossom so that
we might sit beneath it and enjoy
a book and a (stiff) drink, perhaps,
wondering at the cross burning on
the hillside (or anyway at the
electricity bill), and what is it
supposed to mean, the burning that
lingers at the bottom of the glass,
and in the waking for a piss at two
AM, this calm, and waiting, this fire.
Remembering, dammit, remembering,
that once upon a time there were
things that you no longer can.
We Are Waiting, Always
We are waiting, always.
For one ending, or another,
beginnings, of a new kind.
from the patience of the
hills, the sketch of birds,
unknown, in their solitude.
Heedless in their desire.
For change. For the season
to turn, for spring, for
the young to come, to go.
To forget, that there will
come a time, when the waiting
is all that will remain.
J.M. Summers was born and still lives in South Wales. Previous publication credits include Another Country from Gomer Press, Borderlines, New Feathers, Sonic Boom, and the Amethyst Review. The former editor of a number of small press magazines, he has published one book, Niamh, a collection of prose and poetry.