Escape Book. A poem.

Texture and scent;
Wafting, consoling.
Old friend on empty nights,
When time and tide have made
A joke of sudden pretence.

When every tiny sliver of doubt
Is a tear working
The stone of your heart –
Slow and condescending
Erosion of the subtle kind.

The book takes you away
From blithe thoughts of bitterness,
The feel and the pulse,
An escape from all
You would despise.

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For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print.

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