Poetry | Stories | Photography
Walking through landscapes.
Alone with sounds of the past,
wind whispers follow.
Wandering from you.
Washing away what was once
a comfortable life.
Walking at midnight.
The duplicity of the
moon within shadows.
Waking from a dream.
You look pale like the moonlight,
only a whisper.
A sky full of stars
In the distance, a bonfire
Running to the shore
Fleeing the office
A violent premonition
Must take the train home
Between dream and Phantasm
Slow to process the nightmare
In the morning hours
Illusion of progression
retreats with the moon
Along the forest path
a wolf follows my shadow
As we watch the snow
Pieces of brown cardboard
A most unamused meow
The broom moves along
Her favourite gloves
Cream with embroidered flowers
Amongst the flowers
Forgetting her covered hands
The sunlight catches the colours
The lightening day.
Watching the coloured moon move
in and out of view.
The moon draws me in.
No dampened tissue of tears
to hold in my hand.
In and out of view.
A calm presence, the eclipsed
moon holds my fatigue.
Along day ending
Home for a long spa shower
Fall into pillows
Grumbling to no one.
The kettle has been silent for too long,
and the toaster is in crisis.
“Where’s the bloody sponge! Oh, hiding
under something large.”
The kettle starts, tears fall on the
teabags, and the cat breaks your cup.
“Oh, well. I simply can’t waste the
teabag …”