J A Proudfoot Poems

Best Poem of J A Proudfoot

Sympathy
I took out the photographs from the drawer,
and laid us on the bed.
I had kept them pressed like wild flowers,
and now I sought a key
in each of these paper blooms,
to unlock the lexicon of you.
But instead I was crushed
by their single dimension.

All your things stare at me….
Your s . . .
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Flamed
There was fire between them.
It crackled and hissed from her hair,
flashed and flared,
with every subtle fiery glance and folding tress
sending skyward glowing sparks.
Weaving across her white skin,
his fingers left glittering ember trails.
This wasn’t the natural order of things.
People were s . . .
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