A barren branch kisses the pane,
adding hollow percussion
to the dirge, I direct at the
loss of everything, casting shadows
on the walls of my filthy retreat.
The whistling wind erodes time
carrying me eagerly toward dawn;
the dank musty smell of neglect
replacing the fragile fragrance
of another time, another place.
Random creaks, constant ticks,
a rustle of brittle leaves merge,
removing the soft velvet voice
that once called my name
with fondness, now spent.
I lay here in shit, open my eyes,
try to picture a face in the murk,
lean to kiss what appears a sweet
neck, and inhale the reek of
stale sweat on my pillowcase.
Tap tapping continues as I cower
beneath grime into oblivion where
accusation beats my brow and
I sink into the mire, with just a book
of fairy tales at my side.
David Ratcliffe hails from the north of England. He writes poetry, short stories, song lyrics & stage plays (one of which Intervention is with a theatre company in London). He also paints in both watercolour and oils. He is a member of an online Zoom poetry group @WorldlyWorders and his poetry has been published in the following publications: Poetry Pacific Magazine, TRR Poetry, Sixteen Magazine, Mad Swirl Tulip Tree Review (Print Version) Oddball Magazine, Poem Hunter, THE BeZINE, Creative Talents Unleashed, Live Encounters @ The Galway Review.