“COLDBATH ALLEY” 14 Feb 95
In the coldness of my winter room
I think of you
lay flowers in the snow where you went
mourn someone that I never knew
never a chance to speak
upon these fragmented streets
I saw you park the car
its the closest neighbours ever get to be
A sense of community torn
on the short path where he took you
a rape is nothing special ; death is forever
a greater death than he ever knew.
home | reviews | rants | poems | writings | trivia | news | links | about mark |
© copyright Mark Reed, 1991-2002 except where indicated