The stone walls stubborn themselves
against the foreground. We empty
out what we know and leave
the mould to carry on creeping.
The windows are openings to a past
we must leave behind. The cracks
that scarred what we saw. The damp
that wet our eyes too often.
The punch you gave me shuddered
our foundations. Words we said
that should never have been formed.
Slamming doors that only ever kept
the wind in. The logs we burnt, the glow
that filled half a room as we sat
in the dark. Let’s leave it there
behind the stubbornness.
Gareth Culshaw lives in Wales. He has his first collection out in April 2018 by FutureCycle Press. He hopes to achieve much more with the pen.