Are there any letters for me?
Soldiers eyes watch
from behind dead frames
while he assumes to be a flower.
and hosts thoughts of other blooms
like his wife back in bed
eating bread and singing of other men.
Leo sent lines off to lift temperatures
naughty he is beyond his Molly-
all boiling with Brazen
The reader turns writer
and returns a pin with a promise to punish
But the dead soldiers will never rise
And dreamer sees only a bath of limp flowers.
What rose blooms without a thorn.
Purchasing lemon scented soap
he thinks of others while dreaming of bathing.
Letters float out from under bridges. Limp.
All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly