shrines

rushing the driven A road
a moments glitter
a stark flash in the mud grass verge

cellophane reflecting sunlight
protecting summer colour flowers
this winter afternoon

on the roadside
by the place of death
the end of love

this often mourn
the stone tower the Norfolk border
shrines by the roads of history

each a sculpted wake
to the shocked imploding loss of love
we all suffer

This poem was published in Never Bury Poetry 59 (Autumn 2K3).