Ray Miller Poems

I found that wedding photo we lost
behind a doll in our daughter's room.
Russian, as it happens, the doll that is -
I can read some significance in that:
...

So un-asleep, the sheet's
a beach of footprints
waiting for the tide.
...

Does anyone know why 17 Borrowdale Road is missing?
Every day I walk past the empty space
and wonder why it's not there.
...

She catches him up and tells him how much
they all miss that laconic delivery,
enthusing about the open mic
at the Abbey Café of a Thursday.
...

This poem went places that it shouldn't have gone
in the beer tent listening to a jazz ensemble,
who came on after the dance band
and are suffering by comparison.
...