Monday, 6 December 2010


Monday 6th December 2010, A. Palmer

A hundred circles,
wrapping myself in a cardigan,
trapping myself in the traces of you.

There’s a candle, and it just won’t go out.

It’s overpowering, I
slip under like in spy movies,
and try to follow your scent back to you.

Where are you?
Are you this candle?

The flame, whiter
the longer I look at it.
It grows, or am I getting closer?

I swear I saw your face.
You’re everywhere I close my eyes.


  1. You have captured the sense of loss so completely here - I felt it.

  2. We wear loss like an old cardigan or blouse at times, yes? It can be oddly comforting..

    I feel this poem and that to me is the mark of good poetry...

    (i invite you to read some of mine as well