In space

There's a door at the end

I'm sure, quite sure

at the end of the corridor

It is open, I think

who knows, I know

but it doesn't say who it's for

Try it soon, push it now

hear the handle's sound

take a moment to see the way

Take a turn, listen true

as the days draw in

for they have so much to say


These days I spend much of my time

putting little boats onto the water

Some I paint green, others yellow

yellow like a painting on a nursery wall

Some I make strong and others quite useless

some I even sing to, though I know that's mad

I pick a chirpy tune, or a song with some gumption

and I croon to the boat as I sail it away

Death in your pocket

I thought there was something unsaid about you

and now I know it

you've been dead before

My death line is different but it runs fair deep

it lies with me always

metal plate in the head

And we are not the most obvious ghoulish types

we're not dressed to mourn

we take day trips out

But the shadows come and go, wherever we are

hours can hang heavy

life tempts with colours


Rachel Fox has a website with links to lots of her writing, blogs and related matters. She has self-published a book of poems called More about the song (2008) and a range of poetry postcards. She has also had poems published in various magazines including The Poetry Bus, Gutter and Pushing out the Boat.

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