Paper lands

In falling out of seasons and stars

The embers’ creep unfurrrowing charts

From fingers’ width to leagues unbound

Stone, wood and sea in all their parts

Vistas each by ash remarked

Wings arising to crumble

Gone afar

The things we half forget

For all the days we left behind, which somehow turned to years

Before we knew autumn’s second meaning

Or saw pages thin to sheer

We will have other summers, yet more like other lives

Child-selves running through pictures

Of lost-remembered ties

~

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Morning Synesthesia

I woke up prematurely

In the most agreeable way

Three sweetly-laden platters

A black forest, a mousse, a cheesecake

And as I dressed for work

I still wanted to believe

Sadly, my empty stomach

Proved the cakes were just a dream

 

 

 

Sleepless

Dark the curtains when dark the night

‘Gainst shards of fire from moonside skies

Fear turning upon the flick of a light

The whisper of water

A child’s cries

Roast beef dinners

How terrifying it must be for parents, to see their children inexorably growing older.

Sometimes I can scarcely watch my parents age. And watch them, as they watch their parents too.