Ta Da!

Morning

darkness surrounds

glad to be writing this

back into old ways of working

daily

midwinter

stone cold 

magpies chatter about

having turned the year’s corner

blackbirds

even now

begin territorial pinking

marking the turning point

knowing something unlearned

getting on

unthinking nature

moved by unseen rhythms

unmetered cadences

encourage belief in rising and falling

hope that change is not only possible but thankfully

inevitable

Time for this Bird to Fly

Super Moon 2017

last full moon

before winter solstice

clothes memories

in bright white garments

singing fringes

outside

cold air reaches

our stories hearth

upsetting everything

sparks fly catching our throat

coughing and spitting

our way back home

embarrassing lack of green

speaking only charcoal 

silence speaks

what now

when 

only 

this 

remains

What became of us
time
space even
ate up our belongings
left us on the platform
faces full of rusty brown
coal steam smoke
wondering

still breathing
the same air
living or dead
but one time we were there
even if memory fades
impressions tell a truer tale
when time’s tide
shifts the sands

bespoke memories
tailored now when
before
woollen woven  roughness
provided proof of reality
for lacking retelling
we wander about the edges
poking in the leaves

awake
that which lived still lives
nothing is born nothing dies
we dance amid the sparkling
glossy moments
catching and missing the beat
singing whatever comes to mind
(making it up)
and that is more than enough.