| Two Poems Moon At night I dream of you having a picnic with the moon, as he grins his toothless grin his face as hard and unwelcoming as it always was. I wake up, I am fourteen, and I am just a white speck in a rum coloured sky. Fourteen and as scared as you always wanted me to be. Carnations Outside the wind laughs lifting up the skirts of old women with pink hats. Paul Henry |
If you have any comments on this poem, Paul Henry would be
pleased to hear them.
