Poem -

Iscariot

Iscariot

A thread cut loose
Scissors slice silk cords.
An object plummets
In shock into blackness.

Falling, falling, falling
The echo's of the cavern reverberate
Pebbles dash and drops of water disappear.
Space is depthless and timeless.

Standing on a grassy mound
Surrounded by Warwickshire's fresh floods
Cold grey rain/river water has formed a lake
Over which there is no crossing
Isolation is complete.

Standing on a gravel path
I feel a crunch beneath my heel
Snail shell splinters
Shattering to infinite pieces
Utterly unreconstructable.

Pick the petals, pull them apart
Hands stained with the scent of a rose
The flower is left in my hands
Stork laid bare.

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