Stuart Miller-Osborne

The weather is fine But the water is cold I would suggest A thin pullover The fog seems to be drifting Out to sea at its normal pace I might write this morning Unless Michael calls me

It was only when I looked closely That I realised that five onions Were slow dancing with the wispy clouds This confused me But I did not question it

As I left a country fair I saw three children Two boys and a girl With what appeared to be balloons Floating high above them

Sister Francesca was standing Naked at the foot of my bed She had turned into the shadows And was counting the ten moons Erotic Poems of Summer (2026)

There are reminders everywhere Our flat is empty without him I wonder where he is now

I buried him in a field Not far from a motorway That is where he was found Cold wet and shivering

I found him in a basket At the bottom of the stairs Asleep in his final dream

If you lock the past Within a box And lose the key The past will always Remain with you

Between Utano and Narutaki Stations There is a tunnel two hundred metres long Through which travels a lavender train

After church on summer days I used to lie on the roof Of my decrepit shed I had only one question As I looked into the blue Was I nearer to Heaven Or was I further away