I hear your click clack feet across the deck A curious small face peers at me I smile back Am I in your world, or are you in mine? For both of our sakes I hope I’m in yours *hiking and staying in a national park in the coastal hinterland this week-end. I prefer the […]
I don’t want to poem about heavy things Not on an evening so light as this Where the sky is fine bone china Suffused with coral and fuchsia Pierced by a single jet trail My eyes follow it Up and up and up I wonder where it is headed I feel the warmth of the […]
It is raining like a rag squeezed hard Big drops and dollops Softening eventually into intermittent showers Beneath these timorous sounds lies the nightly conversation of insects I wonder what they say, do they talk to each other or nature itself? Where does nature begin and end? We humans seem to separate ourselves from it, […]
There is something timeless about nature Unflappably effortlessly implacable We look into it and feel our hearts slow down a beat Watch a flock of birds circle Even in the busy city streets With honking cars And busy feet The clouds drift gently above A breeze dries the sweat on my cheek And she saves […]
I wish that my heart could speak And not my mouth It would say nothing. Instead, letting the silence expound until all of existence fell silent too Until all the cars stopped The sounds of machinery and labour stilled Until every clock on every wall and in all devices Ceased their infinite tick Until the […]
I don’t wish to dwell on troubling things, the day has been littered with enough of them They fall upon the mind and it holds them like a hook Or a bouncing ball that my palm sends downwards and away, it hits the wall rebounds You cannot not think about something by not thinking about […]
Small butterflyYou and IThis momentThis lifeWe breathe so we liveBoth of us struggleBoth of us flailand when we are overWe return whence we cameSize doesn’t matterWhen we both become dust& after we dieThe sun will come up& another caterpillar will inch across a leaf
I’ve arrived home to star grass season. I call it star grass, but it’s actual name is Hairy Panic Grass, possibly due to the fact that the sight of this stuff burying everything induces a feeling that is indeed akin to hairy panic. Piles of feather light seed heads piled up against any barrier, fences, […]
This clear, bright morning, perfectly perfect My shoes, the first to scrunch across the dew wet grass I tear through cobwebs spun overnight Apologising to the broken tendrils left trailing in the sparkling light behind me The birds and I, all that are awake I whisper words in my head So as not to break […]
Broken branch, leaves turning russet as they shrivel and die It lies barely a foot from the mother source from which it has fallen A tall healthy tree, swaying in the breeze I guess we all need our roots to breathe Some humans are not so very different What to hold onto And what to […]
