GREENHEYS ROAD

GREENHEYS ROAD

The vessels of love crowd in.
Their traumas hidden
among the reeds.

No love is lost or given to them
as they clutter the minds
of thieves.

Strong, sober and drunk
I come to you.
My weakness revealed
in my glee.

And book-like I pray on
your need
to comfort — sometimes.

Now there is light.
And now there is dark.
And that is the way that you
can pay
the charity you give
to men like me.