Month: May 2015


beneath speckled stars
pace the street, waiting for you
stride quite slowly, then
much faster, heart relentless
beating for your arrival


Mulit-coloured strands tactile in my hand. I tease the threads as you talk. Words fall in the void between us. I throw the koosh ball, toss it higher and higher. my catching skills prevalent as usual. You talk louder, trying to get your message through. Something about growing up, taking responsibility. I watch the spinning elastic somersault through the air. Hold out my hand to catch it, disappointed when nothing lands. Turning I see you walk away, the koosh squashed in your hand. Who won. I’m not really sure.


Running through the rain, caught in the storm. The weather was suppose to be fine. We’d set out from the cabin in summer clothes. Clothes that now clung to our bodies. A thin veil of modesty.

We shield from the downpour in a derelict building. Pausing for breath inhale the scent of nettles and wild garlic, an aroma fresh and lifting. We look, share a smile. Away from the hustle of town, from the goldfish bowl of urban life. We’d made it.

Reaching for your hand we stand close together listening to the rain, drumming gently on the corrugated roof. Standing on tiptoes, I lean toward you. Then a crack and a flash, lightning hits.

We stay for a while, watch the sky dance. Watch the crescendo reach it’s peak. Clear the air and move away. The world awakes anew.

No candles

The buffet sits beneath a veil of clingfilm. Children run as parents talk in hushed voices. Milling in swarms, not their usual crowds. The celebration, or whatever you wanted to call it, brought them together. Unknown cousins and long lost aunts flock together, hurded by grief.  After a suitable time, not sure what for, the filmy veil is lifted. Guests tentatively pick at the body of food. Not wanting to indulge in their hunger, for the pain. Looking at the party I half expect the cake and the candles. But there are no candles today, your flame’s extinguished.