Poems by Colm

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  • Milk (5) 3 HM

    I can hardly stand to watch, most mornings,
    her buttering crispy-black toast, scraping off...

  • Don't worry.
    Don't let me make you forget...

  • I wanted to dip my hand
    in the river, and blister my finger...

  • 3.10am (4) 1

    Your lips twitch, betraying the dream you're...
    Your slow breath is choral to the soft rain...

  • Casting (6) 1

    The river tickles along its way
    to kiss a lesser-spotted shore...

  • Ocher sunsets stretch
    to exercise April nights...

  • I caught my poetry late at night
    admiring himself in the bathroom mirror...

  • In glowering
    wind, by rusty swings...

  • December must be tired
    of being called upon, of being...

  • Mirror (2)

    Why, your hair is forever a storm.
    I do not own a mirror...

  • I try to imagine a vixen, in a field of snow,
    with four purple mitts like membranes to her feet...

  • I would mould my hands
    into blinkers, so that nosy branches...