Poetry

Captured fate

Dust streams off the road as dry tears.

Their hand is raised in farewell,

yet the heat waves trick the eyes into

believing they’re beckoning you closer.

Don’t take it, don’t step,

the wind cries, wrapping its arms around you

and pulling you away, away.

You bottle its colours, bright as glow worms,

and head off into the stars.

Poetry

Small Waves

You used to look

out over the harbour and tell me

about the boats waiting there.

You used to say

that they weren’t just vessels

for ferrying a person back and forth,

but vessels for transporting the lives of all the sailors

ever to have sailed,

worn into the salty residue on their hulls.

A lullaby to the ocean and its cast

of characters waiting forever for the last show

of the tour.

Poetry

Of shadows and memory-hunters

Passing hands connect. Briefly. Branching out into a thousand minds, forcing roots around synapses. Shadows flit around: drooling mouths, gleaming eyes. Adrenaline beats in every cell, spilling out through the leaves that quiver as the prey’s sweat-filled fur touches their tips. Great lakes fill the indents left on the muddy ground, imprinted by weighted hearts. Seeking.