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.
Comments