Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry, Writing


Springscape. Pigeons frozen
In trees, the knife of wind from
The north cutting into blood
Across heath and city. The
Stasis of waiting for what
Every year promises but
The shifting seasons don’t
Release until too late. The
Terrain of this living is an
Uneven battlefield, craters
And unexploded bombs
Of days crammed into
The busy spaces where
Humans linger for solace.

R 28/03/2023 08:38

We pick our way clumsily
Over the terrain of love,
Edged as it is in betrayals,
Trusts undone, tests passed
And failed, words invented to
Please, flatter, seduce, and

By the time we reach what
We never knew we were
Reaching for, we are muddy
Corpses, broken-boned and
Broken-souled, soiled by the
Lies we have told and heard.

And yet, despite the mine
Field we have crossed, despite
The wounds we have endured
And inflicted, we start again,
Even this close to the end,
We start believing that
Love can yet cure us.

R 28/03/2023 11.37


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  1. Ren Powell

    29th March 2023 at 04:37

    Interesting that this post links to the Twentieth Wedding Anniversary post <3
    Here's to believing … always reason to do so…

    1. Richard Pierce

      30th March 2023 at 18:35

      I think wordpress links to posts at random. I must find the 20th anniversary thing as I’ve probably forgotten it, but not the love behind it. We have to keep believing 🙂

      1. Richard Pierce

        30th March 2023 at 18:37

        PS – found it. That’s over a decade ago! Time flows too quickly.

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