Who do you turn to

Who do you turn to

When you feel inspired

To share

The awe of wonder

In a moment

You might want to remember

The beauty of a wildflower

Growing in pastoral

Seclusion

On a drystone wall

The cry of a shrike

As it captures its prey

The slaughterhouse

Of its larder

Counting the seconds

Between a lighting strike

And a rumble of thunder

Laughing like a drain

Dancing in summer rain

As steam rises from hot bodies

Who do you turn to

When the lights go down

The sand in the glass

Is almost gone

The pain in your heart

Is not an arrest

But a longing

To remember

What it was like

When simple things

Were shared, enough

To become more than

The sum of their parts

Significant moments

Stored in two hearts

Lost

In isolation

As the meaning

Of a moment slips

Quietly by

Like a ghost ship

On a dead sea

Who do you turn to

With no one beside you?