11 February 2011
That boat you see, tourist in this land of travellers,
claims it once brought clay urns to Pithacusæ,
to store wine and grain, and sometimes babies, stillborn,
slipped into those cold second wombs by silent husbands…
11 February 2011
If you’re going to Rome
there’s a glove shop there,
not far from the Spanish Steps…
11 February 2011
Like trees diseased in spring that heal
and bud again before autumn…
28 May 2011
Beneath
lizard bellies of planes…
11 February 2011
I read the scrap of paper
torn from a homework book,
red- margined, turquoise - ruled,
headed Wanted Back ASAP…
11 February 2011
I might have met you there, windows for our back-drop,
a blood-orange sun, a burning sea, and me…
11 February 2011
The stain is still there
where you and the dogs come in…
13 July 2011
I will bring you Botticelli’s Graces
from the walls of the Louvre;
11 May 2011
Tap, tap, tapping
I wait
between bed and chair…
Copyright © 2021 Sharon Ashton