Sun glistens. Ripples wriggle. Silt dances in the stream. Clear water no more. Mud moves, water flows. Yet still we swim.
words
What a Web
Dew sparkles, glimmering in the morning chill. Tears holding on. Lost as the sun rises.
Conservation
In dappled sunshine
The cold stone stares,
Like rows of dominoes waiting,
Rows of lives lost, taken.
In shadows they dance,
Among the trees, standing tall.
A watch tower for the dead.
For the lost.
Always, almost
We were always on the edge. Never quite falling. That freedom of flying just out of reach. The time we didn’t but almost did, and again, and again. Time spent wasting, time with you. They said we would. They said we did. But we were almost something. Just an almost.
Glimpse
Beating in, out. Stomach rising. To that thud, that drum. Vibrating. Moving. Breaking. Beaming. You.
A breath…
Away from here. From the daily grey. Give me the blue of the ocean, golden sands, bright white spray. Give me air to breathe.
Lost
In the darkness I wait.
By the phone box I stand.
Shattered glass crunching.
Broken shards bleeding.
You’ll find your way.
One day.
Cutting floor
Envelopes. Paper. Painted with letters, woven with words. I sit. Scissors in hand. Feel their weight. The solid steel. Lift the first letter from the pile. Place the blades gently around it. Slowly squeeze the handles. Smile at the satisfying snip and slice of cutting paper. That crisp crunch of the blades biting. A metal smile hiding teeth within.
With my eyes closed
Night walking. Head hazy. The streets warped like an Escher picture. Yet my routefinder kicks in. My feet walk a path they’ve walked too many times before.
Third lamppost on the left, take the snicket Dark and narrow I snag on brambles falling free, skin torn, stinging. Head for the light, the other side. Stumble on loose paving stones down the steps to arrive on your street.
Quiet. Calm. Unchanged.
I sit on the pavement. Hug my knees tight. Here again.
Hibernate
Climb the stairs, close the door. Think no more about things. That big pile of things waiting. It can wait. Slip into time. Time before. Just you, your room. Music on, lights low. Lay on the bed. Stare at the ceiling. That blank space. Listen. Breathe. Hypnotise. Hibernate.
