Poetry

Sliding Puzzles

When you slice an apple down the middle,

it splits clean into halves.

But the tang of its flavour can linger for hours.

 

When a room is reshuffled

to accommodate one person instead of two,

using the space to its full potential,

still the ghosts of memories surface

when you least expect it.

 

A promise of constant,

when what was needed to move the rain

was change,

however painful

the adjustment might have been.

Poetry

Tied Up

Every plait

can be separated

out into the individual strands

that make it.

No matter how long they’ve been bonded for.

 

These strands can then go

on to make new bonds

or hang freely

to

catch

the sweetness of the air.

 

Growing stronger than vines,

lush as wild forests.

Why should they tame themselves

for the benefit of others –

small, preserved, squashed –

 

when they can fan out as they please,

dancing on light toes

throughout the day?