I wonder what happened to our love.
We once fit together,hand in a glove
Hands which had waved like fronds in harmony,
Now behaved with silent, consensual ,strangers’ parsimony.
In the silver coated mirror in my brain,
I reflect on love with urgent growing pain.
What was the dreadful moment our love cracked?
Was hell awakening, just behind our backs?
I sit here in the evening, cold frost-chilled.
In loving I ‘ve become entirely without skill
What value can any strange new love possess?
Is it more than this, or is it always less?
See what you think 