Where was my hat? I retraced my steps and there it was, on the bench in the bus shelter. Well, OK. I unrolled my sleeping bag.
Tweets
In the flooded days
In the flooded days, with electricity gone, the villagers turned to folk music for strength, acoustic. Toes tapped, splashily.
Not a cent
The man who helped pull my car out the ditch wouldn’t take any money. Not a cent. Just my little finger to wear on a string round his neck.
Sea of conversations
The shark and the seahorse eyed the sea of conversations, who and how to join. Currents of unvoiced thoughts swayed weeds.
Revisited
The door swung open; and closed with a wooden clatter. My mouth opened and closed with a click of large teeth. Not again. No.
The friends have left
The friends have left, the house is quiet and larger. Echoes of laughter fade. Now is the time to sit and sleep with a smile.
The longest night
The longest night. Clouds covering thin moon. Few cold stars silver in the black surrounding sky. Golden eyes blink slowly, twice.
Ten minutes to New Year
Ten minutes to New Year. Lightning zigged, cab lights zagged the rain yellow. The girls zigazigahed up the hill. Love would arrive.
Winter sea
The riptide curled, waves crested and rolled, roiled up and over the lone rock in the stone grey sea, and the snow was gone.
People with beautiful eyes
People with beautiful eyes are dangerous as fire.
People with dangerous eyes are beautiful as ice.
See me, follow me, take me with you.
simonsalento 