The year is halfway through or at an extreme, the long-shadowing sun tilted low. Times of change and times for change. Revolution.
Poetry?
Moon time
Milk-white light spills through the crescent slit in sky
Trees cast broken spider web shadows
I look at my phone as you tell me with you the sun is shining
The earth has spun you away
crushed snow squeaks
crushed snow squeaks and creaks and groans
beneath the ice, grey shadows of fish
the day is dark as evening
The list has been written
The list has been written
I’ve checked it once – twice
I’m deleting old posts which were naughty not nice
Self censorship is coming to town
Fog hides frost
fog hides frost underfoot
the fog into which you disappeared
my balance is lost
Snow on rain on ice
snow on rain on ice
glass all touches over slide
when will your heart thaw?
purple berries
purple berries snow background
birdsong breaks silence
pale sun
dreams
mobile phone dead beat
mobile phone dead beat
laptop batteries running out its ears
my brain is fried no sleep
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.
simonsalento 