Barry Tebb

1942 / West Yorkshire / UK

THE PRISM

Through the windows the sun's light

Turns to amber, the moon's to jade;

All night long I lie awake, wondering

How much your stunned heart can take.

That moment's ‘sudden interminable splendour',

Our love kept up through the years of stress,

Strange dark-haired creature, the light over the water

Burns and beckons through our emptiness.
141 Total read