A Marriage, by R S Thomas

We met
   under a shower
of bird-notes.
   Fifty years passed,
love's moment
   in a world in
servitude to time.
  She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
  closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
  'Come' said death,
choosing her as his
  partner for
the last dance. And she,
  who in life
had done everything
  with a bird's grace,
opened her bill now
  for the shedding
of one sigh no
  heavier than a feather.

Visiting Mum

Here's one of my poems from my collection My Mother is an Old Elephant, available on Amazon here, or see the Poems section.

Visiting Mum

She lies down all the time now,

turned by kind hands,

living in the space

between her face

and this plain wall,

sometimes understanding

I’m here beside,

other times dispersed

among the floating radio waves,

out upon the voiceless tide.

With each ebb the angels keep a little more.

With each flow, a little less returns to shore.