In the mirrored loch Hued by angry dusk I reflect upon myself, At myself Waiting to feel something As I stand numb Drowning on sorrows pebbles, Which I have thrown to the deep At the man staring back at me Who comes back to me in waves, Lapping at the neck of a lead filled Swan Cut by reeds inked by black fly Facing the footprint which killed it Next to a shoal of buoyed eyes The Swan will sink as newts rise. Night whispers to me from Crickets Grass bows to their eve song Quills of the pen write their misery In to the mocking current of life Moons become her eyes Next to broken wings Under broken skies.