C.L.LLOYD

the poetry.

l.lloyd poetry

  • BIRD BABY WITHOUT A MOTHER

    I am a learning-thing.  Unpetaling flowers in late spring. Breaking my beak open for a love that isn’t coming.  Drunk on the greedy need. Cawing nightlong into the blue-black hollow of absence. Sipping on the scarlet azaleas. Pulling twine from the floorboards of fusty rooms left to dust.  Moon-faced on wishing. Your magpie-eyes only gaze wantingly at bursts of Read more

  • WHERE THE GRIEF SINKS HEAVY.

    Meet me in the courtyard, as the clocks steel hand strikes the midnight hour, when the nights deep blue kisses the leaves of trees – and dew clings, like a creeping thing.  Find me in that familiar place, where shadows dance across landscapes, leaving tawny spots atop the hills, swaying between silver-tipped daffodils.  You know, the secret place – where the grief Read more