Eileen Carney Hulme
Rhythm of Life
The clock is silent Nowadays clocks no longer Need to make That rhythmic sound of life. We have moved on And everything is changed I am no longer sad I don’t weep for you.
Small Breaths
No matter that my heart sinks, Sighs, with the weight of skeletons- Paths I forgot to follow Have slowly sealed Rooms go unrecognised For fear of change And I cry at the uncertainty of
Sleeping in Blue
I lean into you, We bury down In the dunes The breeze holds Like a whisper You stroke my brown knees Your fingers Are my unspoken thoughts The silence is sensuous, Suffuses like Scent
Indian Summer
Like a deep blue wave Of passion You shore into the room Where I sit waiting quietly, Open-booked. We have moved through days, Loss, pain To hold this moment, This picture postcard seascape Of
The Letters
I wonder if You keep the letters still, Spidery and blotted Now, like old days Just withered away. I remember sunlight bursts That inspired Those winged words, The spirit of spaces Flying paper aeroplanes
Belonging
We never really slept, Just buried clocks In the sanctuary Of night Every time I moved You moved with me, Winged eyelashes On your cheek returns a kiss Small spaces of silence In between