This week I have been a dragon, fire breathing.
My scales are supple,
my wings unfolded wipe men from horses.
I curve back my neck and roar smoke and cinders.
And in the story I am a hero,
I use my flames to fight good fights
and hold out in dragonly hope.
This week I have been a dragon
and that is how I am.
This week I have been a dragon, fire breathing.
My scales are supple,
my wings unfolded wipe men from horses.
I curve back my neck and roar smoke and cinders.
But in the story I am not a hero,
though I wish my flames on no-one
and when I can do good.
This week I have been a dragon
but now I want to stop.
This houseplant thrives on neglect.
Do not feed it or give it water.
Do not wipe the dust from its leaves.
Let it be and it will survive.
And, perhaps, one day, it will flower.
ideas overlap
waterlily borders venn
your hand in my hand
spring streams down green hills
clouds cross dream horizons
blue skies yes blue skies
It’s nearly time, a tick or two away.
Tick.
Tick.
Light slices in through ice-swirled windows, high-piled snow deflecting its morning angle. Inside the room hot breath and sweat hang like mist, and fog the floor-length mirror. A finger could draw an arrow or a heart, write a promise or a threat. For now, like the overnight snow, the mirror remains inviolate.
winter has to pass
through the frost flowers will grow
we will live in hope
magpies hop in snow
shifting Rorschach trickery
eager cat’s tail flicks
The sky was blue but there was no sun.
The snow had come.
Thunder like a distant drum.
The snow had come.
I held your hand but your smile had gone.
The snow had come.
We knew the end would not be long.
The snow had come.
The snow had come and all our fears
Our fears that lasted through the years
Our future had now just begun.
The snow had come.
simonsalento 