The drums move,
one, two, one, two as if she feels the vibrations.
A shroud for her soft bones,
yet they cannot feel her anymore.
Moorish grey clouds weep tears
as they step and move in time.
At the pyre, the drums beat loud
as they dance and sing for her.
I’m home now, she tells the sea. A wavelet splashes her feet. Is that your answer, she whispers. The wavelet doesn’t touch her feet. Looking to the lunar sky as light touches the sea surface, she asks the sea if it’s the moon. A wavelet touches her feet.
the weight of time upon young skin
how gravity ages us she thinks about youth and beauty it’s all she knows then time passes her by in years she’s old now youth went too fast alone
Through misty rain,
in the grey light of day, I see you clearly.
cherry scents from bright red lips
fill his coffee head with sweet thoughts.
cold winds calmly move about,
as spring decides it’s time to let go.
coral dresses leave his heart lost
and ready for whatever the day holds.
chocolate leg whiffs taste so good,
as he takes this spring breath of the day.
a forest shrouded in my warm winter dreaming
I walk on cobbled and chipped streets.
The smells and the sounds of Stresa and Baveno on a warm Spring day, come back to me.
Prosciutto pizza with you under the
plain trees remind me of Lygon Street, and I’m homesick for both.
A scarf of burnt orange moves in the breeze,
and the colour blends in with the architecture; the sound of Paganini fades, and I’m alone.
Empty beer bottles lay lonely and over-cuddled on the
kitchen table, the lounge room floor, and near the recycle bin.
Semi-naked and numb from the cold, you wake up next
to the love of your life, snoring deeply and looking deathly pale.
Unaware that your lover is waking up, you dash for the
toilet, have a quick wash, and start walking on the crunchy grass.
Waking up, you realise the robe chord is a bit loose and
there is more on display from the rear than you first thought.
The snapping sound seems distant, yet after thirty or so seconds,
you turn around to see your lover snapping your buns.
Initially pissed off, several semi-dark thoughts race through your
head until you let it all go, take your robe off, and pose.
An endless hallway,
masking a silent scream.
Running to the end,
moving so very, very slow.
A line of sunlight,
the walls are moving alive.
Walking into the sun,
feeling the springtime bloom.
Thinking all is swell,
looking around the hall as they cast shadows on the wall.