Breathe easy,
opaque thoughts,
tucked up against the chill air
unaware of the passing
of moon’s court.
writer, book reviewer, daydreamer
Breathe easy,
opaque thoughts,
tucked up against the chill air
unaware of the passing
of moon’s court.
When I see your face,
jaw slack and eyes closed,
beyond the beat of this moment
in a dimension all of your own,
I relax in the knowledge that
despite the chaos of eggshell mornings
and clay evenings,
you’re finally getting some rest.
Evening draws in,
the half-moon observes
your passage home.
Hours drip by heavy,
oil falling in water.
Unmixed, always a separate entity
to those wandering past.
Cigarette butts on the ground
avoiding the traps especially set
on waste bins.
The smell of energy drinks
left on the bus two seats down
marring the truest scent
of night.
Door unlocked, house is silent.
Signs of life everywhere
that need to be tidied before morning.
Before mourning.
Of what might have been.
Not of what is.
The aftertaste of what is
is natural,
no added sugar.
Snap! Go the fingers,
summoning a swirling, curving, whirling
mass of colour
around the feet well travelled.
Calloused hands link together
as the dance begins,
a lively jig of forest sprites, glow-worm bright
against the night.
The crickets sing, violin strokes,
The sighing breath of sparkling eyes
soars up towards the turning skies,
heart a thump, dervish motion,
drinking deep a blissful laugh.
Naturalist and multi-award winning author
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