Until coffee my life
is a slow
slow motion replay
of every other Sunday morning
Tweets
The hill
The hill did not brood. It was not a looming presence above the peaceful town, nor somewhere people glanced nervously when thunder echoed down the valleys. And then, one day, with the sun high in a cloudless sky, it spat fire.
explore my home town
explore my home town
eyelashes brushing buildings
make my city yours
Botanic Gardens 1-3
seeds drift, summer snow
my thoughts follow carelessly
the bees are busy
the bees are busy
sunshine laziness shaming
the smell of broken grass
the smell of broken grass
heaviness of eyelids
foreseeing brief farewell
Botanic Gardens 3
the smell of broken grass
heaviness of eyelids
foreseeing brief farewell
Botanic Gardens 2
the bees are busy
sunshine laziness shaming
the smell of broken grass
I didn’t see that coming
I didn’t see that coming
I thought and shook my head
but then again
I thought again
they told me love was blind
Back to school
There’s tension on the tenement stairs. None of the doors are yet open but you can feel it. Slow time passes. A snag of August rain sweeps in as the street door opens. The first silent children set off for the first day of school, faces pale, clothes for the year too baggy.
Summer fell
Love faded with your tan. Leaves changed colour. Summer fell.
Thinking back
One minute your key was in the lock; the next it wasn’t.
One day the sun came out to play; the next it didn’t.
One year you said I was the only one; the next I wasn’t.
simonsalento 