Knife, stone, paper
for Dr David Kelly
© Suzanne Bosworth 


A secret-shadowed country wood,
a tangled story sinking into earth.
Blood to dust. Ashes of honour.

A wartorn man spiked on an expedient sword,
tongue cut to wretched ribbons fluttering red
in the screeching blast of white hot transatlantic spin.

Knife cuts paper. A scattered smile.
His burial gifts the blame and accusations
from spotted hands of other men
keeping their silver for their own final journeys.

Stone blunts knife.
Here is grief, graven deep and clear
telling the dark song loud for all who hear.

Wrap truth around a stone.
Send it fast across the lie-cloaked night
to crack the sky with splintered light