…of my sorrow

A pale ghost whispers
from weeping falls
it has a secret to tell
a song of ice
both dark and light
still my heart
knows only one refrain

the anomalous
broken shards of us
repeating
again and again
your shallow depths
I could never see

but now I belong
to the aching sea
and she gently
comforts me
as the weight of years
falls heavily

yet still my heart
pens my words
drawing
from empty wells
the dark ink
of my sorrow
© Ann Bagnall