Friday, 28 March 2014

A Day

Snow on waking.
Sepia tinted world.
Rushing through the day.
Buzz buzz buzzing.
Home. Food.
Sleepy bed.
A day.

Monday, 10 March 2014

Weston 1969

Waves break, ferocious on the sand,
and you brave the waves,
pushing steadfastly through the surf,
to the calm water beyond.
Tucked under the dunes, I sit and watch,
until you re-appear, stout in your heavy black costume,
shaking off seawater, then towelling yourself dry.
Marram grass, and a thin sliver of sand.
Early in the morning, we walk to the dairy,
and collect jugs of warm milk.
And in the late evening sun, you bathe me
in a deep porcelain sink. Through the window,
the empty street below,
and a wide expanse of ocean beyond.

Monday, 3 March 2014

Burnt out

Burnt out, and as the flames still
lick the ceiling, leaving behind
ugly streaks and trails of soot,
with flames still tonguing the air,
the embers turn grey and cold,
and my eyelids close, to mark
an ending.