Falling Without Stopping by John Alwyine-Mosely

Perhaps if I had imagined you as a lily,
your lips stained with dust blown on the wind,

dress green with the touch of moon white
and you there waving as you danced away,

we could have been the sea on white sand,
the flash of silver, skimming the rustle of waves,

dolphins that leaped and twisted the air into circles,
or boats with linen sails where we drank champagne,

but I found you as a winter birch hard lined with frost
with dry stone walls broken but still too high to climb

and no birds in branches that would sing in dawn
on a cold moor where even sheep huddled for warmth

yet when we meet wearing other people’s happiness
let’s not forget once we kissed not wanting to let go.

John Alwyine-Mosely is a poet from Bristol, England who is new to published poetry. Recent work has also appeared in Stare's Nest, York Mix, Clear Poetry, Nutshells and Nuggets. Three drops from a cauldron, Ink, Sweat & Tears, Street Cake, Screech Owl, The Ground, Aphelion, Uneven Floor,The Lake, Morphrog and Yellow Chair Review.

John Alwyine-Mosely is a poet from Bristol, England who is new to published poetry. Recent work has also appeared in Stare’s Nest, York Mix, Clear Poetry, Nutshells and Nuggets. Three drops from a cauldron, Ink, Sweat & Tears, Street Cake, Screech Owl, The Ground, Aphelion, Uneven Floor,The Lake, Morphrog and Yellow Chair Review.

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