chloe in the window box

in the darkness

it’s increasingly difficult to find the corkscrew

and Chloe in the window box

with that bottle of pinot noir

or the memory of her

that left six months ago

and light no longer shining through

her window

where as a sentimental act

we clasped and watched the stormbirds

that no longer cross the shoreline

Neptune no longer taunting

peering through his transparent keyhole

no more 2am’s

cut out of the darkness with a corkscrew

and as time stretches on

a distorted picture of Chloe,

an empty bottle of pinot noir