The One Who Hasn’t Been Named

I thought rescuing you would be better
Than your being hounded by men,
With sticks who chased you out
To be hounded by territorial strays again:
A vicious cycle that I broke
By bringing you home; and not thinking
Of what would become of you with me:
A tender connection, an inevitable linking,
That I would end up feeling over.
Emotions are so easily made;
They form almost as easily as you,
Running into my arms the moment
I held them out to you,
Like some fool-hardy egotistical saviour.
It takes seconds for a bond to take hold,
It takes forever for it to be broken,
It’s a yoke that’s man’s best and worst,
Where nothing ever need be spoken.

Valentine’s

When hearts grow into winter’s bitter cold,
They have no hope for the nurturing care,
Which they remember well from times gone old,
Though all of memory lays frozen bare.
The branches of blood lie flowerless weak,
The body of sky breathes chalky white,
The birds of summer can not chase and seek
The flight of age into the milky light.

Silence in everything. No bell tolls.
For none now live in love’s antechamber.
Seasons have passed through, each with its own goals,
All the hard heart does is try and remember.
Remembering spring, summer, and the fall –
Even if love did not run through them all.