Wednesday, 17 February 2021

The sound in my eyes

When the heart

with alarm calls to

trees of antiquity

to be close,


this world, the purgatory

of the mouse-click,

stares backwards

and slams the door.


As words say, or

a wired stray is

the sound in my eyes.


Pacing in place,

hands in pockets,

caught blushing.


Poem: Marie Craven, 15 September 2017

An erasure poem, selecting words from writing by Nigel Wells

Photo: Benjamin Balazs, Unsplash

The sound in my eyes