Defragmentation

To be touched once
and never more
the same hands
trick the light

people fall apart
bit by bit
they defragment
and disappear

Stained Glass

A ruined church now stands
where once a young choir sang,
sheltering walls sink into the earth
tumble down the rock face.

Touch my ageing hand she might
say were she to come home,
but the grey cloud is winter
her heart turned to stone.