Poetry

Pebbles

The stones are cool against my skin as the tide draws away

to leave them raw. Skitter, the drag comes.

It tries to take me with it, but I am planted firm,

my hair rooting into the shore.

I am solid, I am grounded, breathing a concept

I no longer need. The salt in my tears

from eons of watching sunsets and rises

crystalises into my imprint. I’ll remain for eternity,

even if I join the sand.

Poetry

Snow

And I can see those crystal smiles

flaking through the sky, passing here, staying there,

skipping over to those outstretched fingers

only to blush and shy away.

Replacing it, the older brother,

hammering down to flood the ground,

standing rigid and smooth

even against steady feet.