Counting

The stillness in the dark
seems to cry out
waking me from dream,
rousing me from slumber.
Into a world of silence,
where my world
is filled with the echoes of my breath
catching hard and fast.
The abrupt awakening
jolts adrenaline fuelled
heavy breathing,
which as it quietens
leaves a space between.
A moment without.
No light, no sound
Broken only by the ticking of the clock
behind me counting the time down.

Shining back

Strands ofhair
hide her face
She pushes them aside.
Looking down
searching
for the reflection,
deep within the walls
Of the moon
shining back
up at itself,
an answer
to the world,
to the question
she never asked.

Anything

The night is biting
through my clothes
and my breath
is billowing out white
against the darkenss
all around
and I’m standing, freezing
looking up tonight
for a star to wish on
to show the way
to light the path
Might be erased
in first light of morning
but tonight,
think I’d follow
anything.

Taken

The fireside gave a glow
reflecting off the glass
half filled, half drunk
reflecting on the story
half told
half held
of times long past
of choices made
lesser roads not travelled

The fireside gave a glow
reflecting in the eyes
half tired, but alive
telling the story
half chosen
half chance
of days long past
of what was made
and lesser roads not taken.

Ashes

Burn the books
Let the smoke rise
to the night I can’t see
into the breath I can’t feel
Paper to words to ashes
Burning my eyes
Indelible print
written inside
flesh, feeling, fleeting
Stories on fire
Years long gone
scripted before the newborn cry
Ink on paper
footprints we left behind
A backlight
as I’m walking away
leaving emptiness
to with the ashes lay.

Penny

She held her breath
while the penny span
and for a moment
it seemed to just hover
waiting to fall
waiting to decide
which way it would go
But she let the breath out
and the penny fell
she felt years pass
as it dropped
and she closed her eyes
when it hit the ground
She opened them
to find her fate on the floor.

Pulpit

Pauper, Prince and Preacher
at the pulpit stand
Crying out at the world
Voices roll off corners and crevice
Echoes find me and surround me
Cold air, warm breath clouds
Taking refuge in the lines
of strangers watching.
Watching their faces
written with concentration
and adoration.
Looking up and looking out
Bowing with deference and respect
at the trilogy
on a winter’s night,
a moment of respite.
An imposter sits
within the ranks
looking on with poker face,
hiding disgust and wanton lust,
balking at the thoughts,
crossing the threshold tonight.

Pauper, Prince and Preacher
at the pulpit stand.
Rallying words surround.
Crossing boundaries
Closing doors.
Whispers flow around
and with a look
Pauper, Prince and Preacher merge
and a shadow is all that’s found.

Black

Kissing the dice
Half my world laid down
One eye praying for red
One looking on
to see what happens
if the world turns black

Undone

In the darkness,
a single spotlight.
A sign of hope
A star to guide the way
Alone in this deserted town
Moon on the lake just outside
offers no solace tonight.
Awake in darkness
Sleeps the day
Your voice in echoes
fills the paint clad walls
Colour to drown in
Still undone

In the darkness
a single streetlight
A light to ring the changes
Peels out to this community
Drowned out
With whisky
and memory
Pulled asunder
The waves on shores
cry out
grab my ankles
reach out for more
Still undone

Hollow

With a chisel on rock
he spent his days
carving for her
sculpting what he saw
creating what he felt,
everything that lay before him
Long nights, dark days
never strayed from the vision
carved and in flesh.
He lingered as the end neared,
not wanting to be parted
from his creation.
With the final touch
he wept silently.
When tools laid down
she was gone.
Sculptor and silence,
hollow inside.