deep within me turns
curling
slow, moving earth
Blackout – curling into the earth
changes
Blackout – river song
the river song
on bare head
the grievings
when you put in the hours to meet a deadline
With tired eyes, she continues:
flashing silver needle,
pulling scarlet threads behind.
She longs for the sea
to wash her free.
grow
she opens the kitchen door
after the rain,
the garden is fresh
the air is sweet and clean.
she smells the soil,
the berries are bright.
As the dead leaves are blown away
to leave a clear white sky.
she adjusts her energy
and wants to grow
blossom
Seen from afar,
white dressed trees
Up close, delicate white
blossom with yellowpink centres
Earthy vanilla scents
the air, Spring is sprung
slender
Receding into the distance,
a silvery slenderness,
turning purple, then black in the dimming light.
I walk to this lady of the woods
who stands alone upon this moor.
She still claims the light,
as light is everything to her.
Her crimson catkins separate
like wings, to flutter
into the breeze,
a swarm of speckled flies.
Undressing her tissue skin
again and again, she endures
revealing her white graceful
beauty
When you want to be so much like your mum but fight the urge
as the day comes to a close,
and the house settles in for the night,
the clock ticks-clicks into the thickening
silence, a breathing silence, you claim as your own.
You’re reminded of late night conversations
with your mum about everything and nothing.
How sitting across from her, you longed to be as kind and giving as she but not as lonely.
You’ve witnessed how she never had a chance once everything
shifted and drifted off course after
her one and only love died. You witnessed their love
desiring that kind of love for yourself and grabbing at any given at times in desperation.
Now you realise, their love was conjured up in a child’s mind to be all
and festered in a woman’s heart to be nothing.
Misty Sunrise
Seaweed
between their toes seaweed mushes
it comes out of nowhere
squeals and screams
wet, cold skin meets cold, wet skin,
pods pop, bones crack, the sea rolls in
Living Wild Studios 