Poetry

And now, the weather

At night came the time for rain,

for rain to trickle through my brain.

All day the sun had roasted it dry;

I’d stared absently into the sky

trying to chase down my thoughts

that flitted around, avoiding getting caught.

But now their wings are wet,

and in the direction of my head they set

just as I snuggle down to sleep,

causing my imagination to take a giant leap.

Poetry

Boundless

It seems I have mastered the art

of being in a place while not being there at all.

You see me smiling, speaking, laughing,

gesturing wildly with my hands

while regurgitating the same script

I’ve had for years,

but I’m not actually here.

 

I can be running across the ocean,

hopping from white cap to white cap

while dark shadows try to pull me under.

 

I can be strolling through the woods

listening to the chatter of trees as they lament

the loss of their families, graves marked only by asphalt.

 

I can be waiting under the stars

rearranging the constellations

to make up the lines of faces I know,

framed by wayward strands of hair.

 

Or, more often than you know,

I’m keeping my eyes open to see you,

to show you that if you need me,

no matter how far away I am,

I can always return here.

Poetry

Clouds with Wings

I stroll down the path,

well trodden, like the ones

your feet automatically follow even when you’re not thinking where you’re going and suddenly find

a sharp turn;

you’ve arrived at your destination.

Yet this time,

I turn and find myself not

at the big, towering structure of work,

but stepping onto a white fluff

that spreads great feathered wings and lifts me up

high.

The wind whips my hair around,

obscuring my vision,

then it clears and I’m chasing dandelion seeds

across the skyline.

A V of birds passes nearby,

I wave at them,

wishing them luck in their new land.

My winged cloud plummets;

I wonder where it might stop.

It doesn’t stop at all.

The ground rushes up, but I pass through it

into a dark, warm cocoon

of blankets and hot water bottles.

I realise I’m holding my breath.

I release it, along with my cosy shield

and find my feet

have stopped

right where they should.