And Souls Lie Bleeding Where They Lay. A poem by David Ryan

They played that song on the radio again.
I saw at once your face.
Your kiss hacked my heart to a Sunday.
And souls lie bleeding where they lay.

Love lies still in the shallows of our hearts.
Pain drowns slow in its’ depths.
You swept away the shadows of our days.
And souls lie bleeding where they lay.

Each time i see the shackled harboured suns,
I see at at once your face.
We touched each other more than we can say.
And souls lie bleeding where they lay.

I wake sometimes to the fingers of your touch.
Where no touch truly came.
A grave, is not a grave, without turned clay.
Yet souls lie bleeding where they lay

……..

David Ryan is a poet living near Dungarvan Co Waterford.