John Hawkhead

wilting tree

white branches stretch out

round her belly

—John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

ghost moon

over silent snow

the slow fall

—John Hawkhead

care home register

no one left to talk to

on the winter beach

—John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

filling the basket

with cut flowers

a wicker coffin

—John Hawkhead

soft flurries

our old cat releases

her final purr

—John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

sudden remembrance

of an empty crib

gentling rain

—John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

sunflower fields

a background buzz

of bullets

—John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

later-life issues

I wonder if the nurse

has a boyfriend

—John Hawkhead

another year

snowflakes fall

more quickly

—John Hawkhead

Google Earth

revisiting the places

I’ve never been

—John Hawkhead

lost in our own thoughts

so long since we kissed

with open mouths

—John Hawkhead

child bride

the soft plaintive cries

of a collared dove

—John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

songbird chorus

announcing the arrival

of the cat

—John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

an old shoe

sinking into the earth

its silent tongue

John Hawkhead

anniversary

she folds his shirt’s arms

around her

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

ghost orchids

no matter what I do

everyone dies

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

drifting blossom

churchmen want to know

where I have been

John Hawkhead

tumbling litter

a gang of street crows

shoots the breeze

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

late arrival

mum joins the family

grave

John Hawkhead

schoolyard teams

the last one picked

the first to die

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

assisted dying

shadows in the slipstream

of a nightjar

John Hawkhead

identity thieves

stamped on her headstone

blooms of lichen

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

winter funeral

our plumes of breath

drawing veils

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

moonlit surf

flickers of white lace

below her hemline
 

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

full moon

the ebb and flow

of our breaths

John Hawkhead

*

funeral planning

the very last time

I’ll wear a tie

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

sky drums

crows in the skeleton tree

call down the storm


John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

obituary column

my old teacher’s name

in the register

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

oceanic spray

great clouds billow

from walrus nostrils

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

stethoscope chill

the doctor tells me

the good news first

John Hawkhead

John Hawkhead

wind chimes

releasing ice melt

into her silence

John Hawkhead