WEAVER

By Andrew Darling

Now I know why

you shut yourself

behind glass,

solace lying in your lap –

a noose, fashioned

by your weaver’s hands.

Pinioned.

Writhing with what you

couldn’t alter.

Now I know why

you chose not to use

that pretty collar of rope.

Even in your dark morass,

pinprick of hope.

#darkpoetsclub