The first day,

of the end of days

 

they gathered

in the park

 

as if

 

it was

a holiday.

 

Picnics

underneath

 

the trees,

& the children

 

roamed free.

 

That night

the pubs partied

 

while our hidden

neighbours

 

coughed

in self-made

 

stockade.

 

The Minister

grave & jittery

 

doctors

blogged

 

on how this

monster

 

crept up

on us.

 

We pondered

on the truth:

 

an alien

intervention?

 

Myself I saw

the planets

 

sweep away

an old order.

 

My children

scattered,

 

old lovers

barked,

 

eyes distraught

minds unhinged.

 

That was the

first day:

 

my pen

immobile,

 

my hands

scrubbed.

 

Now, the sun

mocks us,

 

bright &

beautiful

 

in its cosmic

cradle.

 

The birds’ nest,

it is spring.

 

Nothings told

my cherry tree

 

to delay its

fragile buds

 

& we

may become

 

wiser

with this.

 

The earth

has no need

 

of our ways,

 

we’ll see

spring

 

give way

 

to summer days;

if we are calm

 

enough,

to live this.

 

 

 

 

Heart

 

 

Your heart,

that bleebing blip

 

I watched

in red

 

womb wall,

 

your heart

is broken.

 

A life

finely played

 

on stage

of love,

 

your heart

that flipped

 

& flew away

landed

 

on the sleeve

of some

 

tall stranger.

 

Your heart,

that once

 

was locked

in mine

 

is beating

out of time

 

I, mother

to all beasts

 

carer of

the weak

 

can’t reach out

across the sea

 

hold you

in your sleep

 

& fix this.

 

I struggled

to be strong

 

I shouted

to be heard

 

I birthed you

in a world

 

where your voice

could grow

 

& your life

would be more

 

than mine:

 

bright & safe

& open.

 

How is it

that we’re

 

here?

 

After forty

years

 

a mother

& her child

 

starving

in a world

 

opulent

with choices.

 

Solstice

Image result for Solstice 2019"

 

Dark descends

@ 4pm:

 

we are locked

in winter’s crucible.

 

Battered by

our storms

 

adrift in

salt scape.

 

White wolf

keens

 

its solitude

under

 

new moon.

 

Sleep brings

nightmare

 

too many

hours

 

lost,

until

 

earth coils,

turns to face

 

the light.

 

Standing stones

catch the dawn

 

bright through

mythical fingers..

 

 

 

Reflection

 

 

Sunrise

opalescence:

 

old moon

dissolves.

 

Sea returns

& returns,

 

until we are

fish food,

 

wind chime

a thrush’s

 

song.

 

You are

not apart:

 

held

 

inside

Polaroid

 

memory,

 

captured

in synapse.

 

Twenty years

of that,

 

twenty years

of this,

 

& twenty

to finish.

 

Full moon

sunrise,

 

opalescence:

 

dust motes

float

 

& all

the drama

 

shifts

to this

 

quiet

reflection.

 

.

 

 

 

Transit

 

Image result for Crescent moon at dusk

 

High wide sky

hint of jewelled

 

crescent.

 

Two breaths

a dying sun

 

fireball burning

the horizon.

 

Breathe again,

eyes up

 

starlight

 

pings from

velvet

 

evolution.

 

Suspended

orbs

 

knocking

equilibrium

 

leaving us

fish like,

 

mouth’s wide

gasping.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Power of three

Image result for power of three

 

Sea flat

swept platinum:

 

sky a full

head, of cloud

 

& the sand

crackles

 

like a

snagged nerve.

 

It’s as cold

as my heart,

 

this frozen

kernel of winter,

 

keening.

*

Night comes

early:

 

slapping over

the sea

 

like a

closed lid.

 

You fight

for attention

 

frightened of

an ending.

*

I’m candy

wrapped

 

breath hot

like

 

industrial

heating.

 

I’m casting

runes

 

Kestrel

glides

 

two black

cats

 

a single

magpie.

 

The horse

kindly

 

tries to

kill me.

 

I believe in

effervescence.

 

The word

slides

 

from my tongue

like kisses.

 

 

 

 

Season

 

 

 

The earth has

turned again

 

I feel its pull

weighty:

 

all night you

lie with me

 

chasing acid

fields, till dawn.

 

We share these

dreams of

 

summer seas,

 

beaches burning

hot, too hot

 

on tender feet.

 

Back then

we juggled

 

broken hearts,

 

now we listen

for their beat

 

expecting breath

to fall apart.

 

Leaves lie brittle

on the lawn,

 

your hair so white

I think of

 

Christmas songs.

your bones snap

 

the kestrel rises

on the wind

 

we’re lost in

misplaced memory

 

trying to sketch

the pathway.

 

We were golden

then,

 

as golden as

your copper curls

 

still bright, but

cutaway to frame

 

your serious years.

 

We blazed the nights

& hurtled through

 

the days, creating

films across a stage

 

you grew to own.

 

Some of us

have fallen

 

by the way;

 

still recognised

in bleary shots,

 

& some no longer

claim to fly.

 

You were golden

then, immortal

 

in your beauty:

untouched by love

 

by life, candescent

in your vision.

 

Now to see your

name embellished

 

high, it makes me

smile, your radiance

 

filters through,

I sigh:

 

remembering the glitter

& the tears.

 

We were golden then.

 

 

 

 

Once more around

& around:

 

leaves a tapestry

of gold

 

sky a grey horizon.

 

Ploughed fields sigh

eased from summer

 

burden.

 

There’s a softness

in the air

 

rain caresses

dried earth

 

& for a moment

autumn’s past

 

returns to haunt

me.

 

Your birthday

 

Time is present:

past become

 

a dream,

remembering

 

just the way

your hand felt.

 

Love’s a mystery

a quest for

 

solace:

 

bound to flowers

beside the lake

 

we learnt each

other’s name.

 

I want you

in the abstract

 

my heart

a crucible

 

seared in

life’s flame.

 

I want you

for an hour

 

a day,

 

someone I

can lock away

 

for all

tomorrows.