Rivers

R.A.D. Stainforth rusticating at the River Irwell...

Yours is elegant,
Limpid in hairpins;

Addressed formally,

With a proper honorific.

Mine is a turgid native,

Wild story-teller,

Straight as an arrow,

Called by her maiden name.

Both channel to mouths,

Hungry for an open sea;

Fresh tongues craving salt,

The mutual waves.

tk/May 2012

image: River Irwell by R.A.D. Stainforth

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In Vitro

R.A.D. Stainforth's lovely delivery...

I sit cross-legged and watch,

as your sea fades and shrinks;

shell-like bubbles break,

in the lingering suds.

I listen, bath-wrinkled,

shiver, as your voice runs liquid,

your soft night-time eyes blink,

as you take a drag,

curls drip behind your ears;

your lips within kissing distance.

tk/ April 2012

image by Manu Pombrol

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