snow on rain on ice
glass all touches over slide
when will your heart thaw?
Moments
mobile phone dead beat
mobile phone dead beat
laptop batteries running out its ears
my brain is fried no sleep
I pile the books
I pile the books in a pile
and rest my feet on them.
I flex my feet, curl my toes.
My socks don’t seem to match.
One day I will read them all.
One day they will be mine.
Princes Street, December, 5 pm
Santa-hatted men jig side to side,
accordions balanced on bellies.
Tourists stare up at the castle and down at their phones,
scrolling through maps in their mittens.
All Iain wants is to get home from his work.
He’s wearing antlers and tinsel but his bus has been cancelled.
Too soon
It’s December 11th. I was be-antlered in the office today – be-antlered, not cornuto. Too soon, everyone said. But it’s Christmas two weeks today, I said. That’s not what we mean, they said, and looked at Kieren.
Eyes closed
Going somewhere nice?
Eyes closed in thoughts I travel
I’m never coming back
From the star the finger pointed
From the star the finger pointed.
Light or lightning leapt the chasm and new life sparked to heartbeat. Energy in the bellied seed became the sapling, the desert oak which stands upon red-sanded rock. Branches spread in shelter, night air now rests soft.
Journeys, arrivals, tables overturned.
And so the life of ever begins, a star, and finger pointing.
Thank you for sending me the photo
Thank you for sending me the photo
the photo of snowcapped mountains
and of you
You are smiling your beautiful smile
Thank you for sending it to me
I just wondered
just wondered
who was holding your phone for you
because that is not a selfie
Good day
He lay on his stomach and rolled the dice at the side of the bed. She rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“It’s going to be a good day, Goldie!”
“Don’t be an idiot, Lee.”
He swung his feet round and sat up on the edge of the bed, poised. He rocked backwards, forwards, backwards again then leaped up and landed on the grubby rug. And the dice. He shouted. She laughed. He swore. She laughed some more.
First published on http://www.paragraphplanet.com 24 November 2017
Leaves flash shy
Leaves flash shy undersides
sky-light against the crowding clouds
before the storm silent birds hide invisible:
what should I think of, if not tomorrow?
simonsalento 