In a war zone existence, delimited
by snipers, landmines and hostile troops,
Grey sky reflects in glass houses
and everyone is throwing stones.
She carries her mourning
gravely through the streets
She finds herself looking out for him
but every night, she goes home alone.
Hiding in lofts with sandbags at the door
he watches war 24 hours on TV
but at night their minds meet
and the ghosts of his words sadden her.
Put them in any two squares of a chessboard
and they would recognise each other -
but for now they are lost.
I used the prompt from Found Poetry for today's poem. A Cento is a poem made up of lines from other poems, traditionally usually lines from other people's poems, but this prompt suggested using lines from your own poems (you can use one or two lines from each poem, mostly here I've used two lines from each poem). This was quite a tricky exercise and I'm not entirely happy with the result. However I was very happy to read through some of my old poems again with fresh eyes!