Monday, 7 June 2021

1 New Poem

Watching Many Sunsets

No river was less running,
than sky-body left to
shine, miracle grey in mist,
looking out above the house to
stepladder escapes and whirring
box fans.

No less were we standing
making fingers slide, to believe
in something greater than flesh touch
the starring-back sense I got
from being still when things
looked paint-prepped.

No storm came from swirling
horizon, no clash breaking open
slippery skies, falling frozen
over the rocky silt, where
green pushed through, pushed on
in its way.

No night came on so quickly
as the ones which flickered
through the summer heat and
mourned our passing selves,
not in sadness, but in truth
that found

Us watching together.

Tuesday, 6 April 2021

1 New Poem

Slow Waltz

The star chart blinked like
beacons splashing across
strewn-water horizon, outside
and crossing chevron nights
through wanderlusting glass.

With one stitch and
becoming again a cross of
arms, the rhythm-scrape of
foot soles on plank and
cut turf; we turn up

In odd places, winding down
a meadow staircase and
freeze a glacier stare
in time between us
and echo, echo lost

Follies in stepping too soon.

Saturday, 13 March 2021

1 New Poem

Two Trees

We perched together,
dug in roots that
reached but did not intertwine
for so long to each other

That the first hint felt like
failing, felt like too many
trials rushing in,

But they were groundwater
quenching parch thirst, clearing
the throat for what came:

Brilliant laps of sunshine
that didn’t waste themselves turning
our leave a brilliant flash shade

Of green-blue crashing off the
sky we looked to and dreamed
of how to float if only there

Weren’t these tangles that kept us
tethered to ground.

But, then, sometimes,

We felt it was good to be
just where we were
with nothing else

But the memory that we
were once so solitary
so unringed by oaken time.

And now had a perfect spot
to shade each other.

Sunday, 17 January 2021

1 New Poem

Harder Ground

The nightshade grew out,
through cracks in stone,
blank spaces in heat.

Consumed the topsoil of
bitter minerals, of frozen
time-ticks on deadpan tones.

When they throw confetti
form us in finery, they
don’t move shame-faced

In floating work signs,
the efforts that took me
so long, too long in tearing.

It is not the star chamber
silence, that stretched out to
infinity’s edge in old halls,

But battered seething that
confuses a heart and
soul sadness, striking
time bone against dusk.

Monday, 30 November 2020

1 New Poem

The Water Line

It was so much taking,
loop and drop through steel
pins and sliding waves,
that was done before I came,

That was done without a flicker
thought for me.

I was worse as ghost
than made flesh, coiling
from blank light of
morning dew starts, glinty

Metal shading for the worse-off
of the two days.

It rushed away, flowering
as hibiscus in fall, wilted
and leaving the bruise purple prose
in mouth and to tongue,

That I kissed in salt brine,
once, and for last time.

Sunday, 11 October 2020

1 New Poem

Sometimes, in Light

The sheet folds were crisp
white, snow caps for the
heat rise of breath and breast
just as pale.

Turning, stirring, the colossal
near-miss of lifetimes
(grandparents’ picture on
nightstand to fall)

Was the only thing that kept
me waking in these same
hours with a cold separation,
a wordless form inflection.

You pass the former foot
miles, new inches we place
between ourselves   and the
rocky waves of pine,

As easy as breathing,
coming home at hard day’s
end, and shelter the broken
pieces as unseen treasure.

I reach through heavy blank
space, fog of circulating airs,
rumbled machine parts cutting
slight figures, until I am

Embraced in you once more:
full circle to footsteps
that once led up rubble and
creaked wood, that became

Paces under one roof.

Sunday, 5 July 2020

1 New Poem

Days of Plenty

I lay,
arms stretched in
darkness noon through
the curtain call,

As you
made the pinprick
acts on me, a tense
equality to protect us,

From hurting
in the bright world,
notions that we
could be kissing

Some days
as calico kittens,
lost in fogs
of harried longing:

Trapeze artists,
dancing in each
others eyesight,
backing away from light.