Sept 2006 053

she nourished that patch

with those flammable tears,

from jagged tears

and all that bares,

streaming arrears

the chanting of years’




She returned in the blink of a decade,

no warning,

taken aback

by perpetual dawning

of the quiet hymn

of the rose.


(A lovely musical interlude by a lovely man).

“A Storm Was Coming But I Didn’t Feel Nothing”

I was going to write a poem for this, but it slays me, and the words didn’t come. I think it stands so much on its own. Maybe another time. Plus, Heath is one heck of a nice guy. But you can hear that.

And gosh, if you want a little more killing me softly, have a listen to this…my favourite of his I think.