Trapped
in an old wheelchair
a young girl waits deep inside
the shell of herself
–
first light-
a sliver of dawn
beneath the door
in an old wheelchair
a young girl waits deep inside
the shell of herself
–
first light-
a sliver of dawn
beneath the door
an empty basket-
warm sunlight on this week’s wash
snapping on the line
–
old bones-
family secrets
in the closet
barely keeping still-
my fingers brushing across
your wet ruby lips
–
waves lap the shore-
your hair drying in
the tropical sun
early autumn leaves-
I should have asked you to dance
the first time we met
–
sidewalk bistro-
I glanced at my phone
and you were gone
days slowly passing-
the pain of every heartbeat
keeping me alive
–
raucous crows-
the carcass bears
silent witness
midsummer morning-
a pair of cardinals perch
in the zebra grass
–
fields of mist-
a robin’s nest
full of shadows
a spreading elm tree-
leathered fingers deftly weed
the cutting garden
–
flooded fields-
years of harvests
in her hands
broken shower tiles
a bare bulb hangs from a chain
in my one room flat
–
after last call-
neon signs
light my way home
a bottlebrush tail
the cat readies to pounce on
the bat by my door
–
cans clatter-
small marauders
stalk the alleyway
under the night sky
conversation and laughter
as the fire dies down
–
starlight-
good friends and
wine loosened tongues