It’s still dark o’clock
and fumbling fingers of recall
fossick through the rubble of remembrance
searching for stones of colour that might
polish up to give some value to yesterday.
But in the night light
textures tell more than colours
and I feel the happiness of other times
when we searched together for the tint
that might glint in each other’s heart.
Those mines are empty now
our picks and sieves abandoned.
You settled for an easier life where
you can choose the jewels you wear.
I kick green stones disconsolately.
©2012 This work is the property of the author.