Poems

the space between

 

in the half light of morning

between the tangles of dreams

and the almost-possibles of day

I lie in bed and listen

 

birds call to each other

or to no-one

rain falls suddenly on the roof

a car moves someone along the street

someone already upright

eyes open

doing what they have to do

 

through shuttered eyelids

I listen

to the sound of your breathing

in and out

in and out

your body rolling in stale sheets

beside me

far beyond my reach

 

I listen to the clock that doesn’t tick

and the one inside my head that never stops ticking

to the lists of should-have-dones

and yet-to-do’s

scrawling themselves across the whiteboard of my brain

 

waiting for oblivion

for the dull thud of a closing door

the click of the key in the lock

 

 

 

 

 

mirror image

wrapped in a woollen blanket

she sits still as stone

in a jar of shrivelled skin

memories preserved

her eyes see past me

to where a brown kelpie barks at the ruddy dust

and dances across the backs of sheep

to where a horse shivers in a paddock of petrified grass

his breath a fog

to where hens roast and crackle in rusted cars

and a young girl waits on the veranda

in the morning sun and dreams

I hold her withered hand

that apple green jumper

she made just for me

and the sweet plumpness

of her apricot jam

still linger

the knarled fingers of time

have knitted her life into another pattern

I watch it unraveling

into mine

(Mirror Image was first printed in page seventeen, issue 4)

 

 

 

fifteen

look you say

a starfish

blue tessellations of flesh

spiralling into purple

spiralling

to the tips of legs

or are they arms

spread like a kiss

across the sea wet expanse of rock

between us

look you point

the animal

is it an animal

flipped onto its back

miniscule tentacles flailing

creamy white belly

vulnerable as a new born

lying in the palm of your hand

exposed

the hand you clasped in mine

a child’s hand

fingers entwined

we scuttled like crabs

searching for treasures

crunched barnacles beneath our feet

tasted the salty spray of the waves

dreaming

an ocean of dreams

here I say

look

a shell lollipop pink

wave-licked to perfection

nestled smooth edged

in my palm

sea song whispering

in your ear

did you hear its melody

swimming in the dark waters

of my womb

did you feel its ebb and flow

floating silently inside my skin

a creature of the deep

waiting for the call

to be

here you say

a cacophony of anemones

crimson arms wriggling

hiding themselves

inside coats of sleek black velvet

a riot of starfish all tangerine

elegance green mossy glamour

clinging to the walls

to each other

to some long forgotten

story

of themselves

water cool against my skin

the yellow tide of time

ripples around us

you walk ahead

making your own way

your shadow dwarfing mine

a nymph inside a woman’s body

a mane of mermaid hair

flying behind you

your childhood flickering

behind you

behind me

vanishing into the chest of memories

we carry

between us

(fifteen was first published in 2008 in Better Than Chocolate)