Stillbirth
In the evening glow
I kicked the stones into the river.
Edmund steered me this way and that,
Quiet as a thought, vast as the sunset sky.
This is when stars shift and time falls
And angels tumble in confusion.
The system’s broken down.
Or has it?
Part of a wider far more logical mechanism,
He floats
Into and out of this world
In the same airless breath.
And what is Edmund?
A weight, a time,
A monitored level of haemoglobin;
A flock of photographs like butterflies to drop.
A person.