by Sarah Sutton, edited by Betty Doyle


I guess it’s out of the blue

For you

But, for me, it was there

Inside  –

Biding its time, that


That something was wrong.


You were the extremity,

Held in the air

For too long.

The feeling had gone –

That’s what happens

When you don’t respond

Until the tingle is gone.  



Tears once fell,

Like autumn leaves,

For time to rake away.  

Now, there is nothing;

No tears,

Just numbness –

like frost-bitten fingers

that have lost their grip.



Like a post-it removed

after time, the glue

between me and you

lost cohesion. 

We shared stories,

but after time,

what would be left

to link us?


Perhaps memories,

these are mostly good;

how you made me

feel full of light,

like summer, but

coloured like a photo in the sun

once bright, they fade

and are replaced by what?

Reproductions are fake.


It was wrong of me

to try this –

We aren’t Lego


we just don’t click.


Maybe for a while,

but it is not enough.

What do we share now?


Beyond superficiality?



I don’t think I have a good enough answer.


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