The Thoughts of Those

The moon glanced up at the sun. It

Had never worked

With such a well-known star before

And was more nervous than the first

Time it glowed for the Earth.

Of course, it had always seen

The sun, but now they were cast

Together for the Eclipse

(A momentous production);

How small and pale it felt.

The sun didn’t notice

The moon’s nervousness.

The sun was busy looking at

The giant audience of peers

Gathered around to witness

Its Moment.

Advertisement

My book is free!

Hey guys, from today until 03/10, my debut, Unofficial Detective, book one in the Half-Wizard Thordric series, is free on Kindle.

And I’m also rather pleased to announce that a few days ago, it received its first review on Amazon.com, and it’s a five star! Exciting times, if I do say so myself.

You

You asked me to hold your hand

for eternity and I laughed

at eternity, at you and at myself.

Of course I can’t hold your hand.

There’s nothing there to hold.

There’s nothing there to behold.

There is no you.

 

Empty nest

The cages swing on silent

chains of air

despite the stillness in the house.

Faces in every window, every mirror, every vase polished to perfection.

Order. Gaunt order.

Detected by the undetectable,

watched by a nest of eyes

invisible to the spectrum.

Change

The wind is changing

I feel it on my cheeks

and in my heart

in the touch of soft kisses on my hands,

falling leaves curtain-drawn into

the sleeping cold.

Seedlings

And why the tapping of bamboo

against stone,

to scare away the birds

as the water starts to fill?

Spilling over the sides into the sand beyond,

clotting it into mounds that crumble

as soon as they dry.

The seeds will still grow even

if they’re scattered by ruffled feathers

making a mess of the business of eating

in a public place. They may

become willowy and wild,

the berserker runs thoroughly through

their system. Their comfort. Their home.

 

It’s all a game

Round you go,

upside down,

ducking under,

swaying aside.

 

Questions dodged

like an intense game of squash

except the rules have changed.

 

Step to,

dance across,

turn a bend,

walk away.

 

You have never changed.

Bird watching

The birds feed from my open palms.

Sometimes they land on my head and pull

cheekily

at my hair or

search for worms in the creases of my dress.

Cars bleating along the highway

scare them away, but they always come back.

The police sirens are the worst, five or six in a row

at times.

You’d think

with so many about,

that one of them would have found me by now.

I hope they do soon

while there’s still something left of me

to find.

The money pit

there’s a hole in the ceiling to display the stars

it matches the pane-less windows

and the vacant stairs

the bare pipes of the sink

and the door without a handle or lock

which leads out into day and night

and leads in

to home.

Dedications

For my missing sock; the remaining one will never forget you.

To the monster in the attic who always made me run to the bathroom.

In memory of all the balloons I’ve accidentally let go of.

For the secret agents who secretly cheer me on.

To the elderly gentleman who waves his walking stick at me everyday. What a friendly guy!