A death

I am a small boy
probably flying a kite
with a friend on a
terrace. It is evening;
and the mood is gloomy.
A friend's mother has
just died and all the
yellow-and-green buildings
around are sunk in gloom.
The trees sway lightly in
the dark-coloured breeze and
mutter their acknowledgement of
sorrow. I think about
the finality of death, and
can't grasp it. It is the
blackness pouring out of a house,
through its green grills,
something unspeakable,
something unknowable.
The world shut in its gloom,
All locked out of heaven.

Water (Fragment)

The sound of it sloshing in buckets
to the whoosh of the ocean drying
our thoughts like dirty clothes...
All the tanks that I've stepped in...

Poem

And now it is all enough,
because all the empty chairs
with their voices of deceit
must cease;
And the slight tremors
that shake the ground under my feet
and shake my brain in my head
has stirred up this telephone
into a noisy declaration
It is time...
It is time to go into the grey beyond.