in the awe
overspilling her eyes
our smallness
January 2017
news of war
teens eye their figures
up and down
an imprint
of Hiroshima
shadows me
with age
the deepening pallor
of the moon
sultry night
my birthplace rattles
its chains
swollen night
the pre-cum of dawn
bends a leaf
as it falls
the intonation
of the night
windfallen
on manicured lawns
Sappho's ashes
no more mind
just the ebb and flow
of a sea
a cicada
clings to silence
ripening
plagued by silence
a ruru mimics the sound
of the dark night
beach-combing
a child washes away
from her death
pond ripple . . .
the one I am
no more
moonlit sea
bound to me in this ditch
of ownership
midnight hunt . . .
every pulse pledged
to the prey
grave silence –
a distant fantail
barely heard
night falls on
night falling on
a dark sea
still life . . .
all my colours
from dusk
dead silence . . .
an ancestral wisdom
in so few words
still us –
sounds aflutter
enter the light
awake again . . .
has dawn recreated
the am I was?
am I to be the words no more
open hand . . .
her call curls out from
the unheard
advent silence
speaking our language
my heartbeat
on mesolithic time
once more
heaven-sent . . .
vernix enfolds the word
whispered in doubt
midsummer night
the moon hangs about
like a suicide
dead - alive
astride a whiplash
of silence
New Year dawning
my mind reassembles
the sound of light
Page 2 of 2
