2 Poems

Truth Sonnet

I know a few things to be true. That in

time some things harden and some soften, like

food left out too long. And that we mostly

miss things on purpose: like a letter left

unopened or the ringing phone ignored

in its cradle. Bees and flies come in through

the same open window—we kill one and

save the other. All God’s creatures, after all.

I know my children’s lives, and how my life

is now. I remember the triangles

of my childhood. Between is cracked and hard.

Maybe, as I lie dying it will warm

and soften. And the colours will be bright,

like the paint of my life was not yet dry.

Home as a Series of Opening Lines

for an Unfinished Sonnet About Time

I hold to the passing of time, with the

cat scratching at my pillow. A weak heart

is walking on the hill. I pass through the

persimmons and the ferns. Often, I have

gone this way before. A cold cry, from out

on the street. Waiting beside the window,

looking out. And, the day is filled with sand

Home is the perfect day, with the wind in

the trees. Slow time brings a steady hand, and

the light in your eyes. The buildings are never

coming back, and the rest are falling in

the yard. I guess this is the passing time,

like an animal looking for a home

that hangs outside and won’t be shooed away.

Kris Spencer is a writer and teacher based in London. He is the author of two poetry collections: Life Drawing (2022) and Contact Sheets (2024).