She likes to mix it up
sometimes, share her heart
on a leaf of paper read,
scribbled on with her name.
It is eager to reveal itself,
being unique and well formed.
This is where it lays its head,
opens its arms in the spread.
It is only one person here,
standing still against the cold,
the sun has dripped away
behind the cloudy silent screen.
It’s a pattern she knows
while she waits for the stars
to empty out their souls
til there is nothing but dust.
Erosion
but only one returned.
refusing to say a word.
towering over landscapes
by erosion’s hands.
wondering where she is,
where silence now lives.
smiles for the camera,
Where could she be?
Feathers
burrow in
the upflift
fluttering,
these precious things,
the barest
feel of touch
spinning. A
white glow.
Breezes take
them skyward
as if to
connect with the stars,
breathe as
high as the moon.
Scant
traces of being
blown away
and now lost.
Not
feathers but people
falling.
Rivulets
run in
single rivulets searching,
the evidential
stop and start.
a
delicate line drawn underneath
a
pretence we no longer have.
the soar
and the silver arch,
once launched,
floating on high.
turn our
palms up to the sun
It seeps
through our fingers.
Visions
light curls
paper edges.
it
snarls and ignites,
flames
in flight like birds,
We lift
on the backdraft,
an
umbrella of curves,
We are
lifted up and out.
this fire
all enduring.
Safe
When things spill over
we feel them slip between our fingers.
We feel fear like a cold breath,
something dig into the pit of our stomach,
making us feel sick to the core.
If you no longer feel safe,
how can you feel safe in this world?
How can you pick up your life?
If you no longer feel safe,
how can you ever feel safe again?
