christmas on the river

i ‘ve been to temple

i ‘ve offered tea and honey to the homeless

sitting and staring

melancholically adding new friends

each one a petal on the river

where the river washes the backs of the petals black

& we lose track of ourselves

& never speak to the people we used to know

& christmas lights are coming on white butterflies swirling in the storm

dear father i am worried

i am worried there will be no compensation for my suffering

what do my tea leaves tell me about my romantic prospects

in the year two thousand and twenty three

nothing – dear father

i wish i had a river i could skate away on

i wish i had a river so long

i would teach my feet to fly

louise farrenc hits middle c

blue music plays in little homes

my hot naked body

enters your museum

__________

Laura Lofts graduated with a BA in Classics from Oxford. Her poetry has appeared on Osmosis. She recently invested in a bright pink Chevrolet.