Thank you for being

Thank you for being here with me
Thank you for being

Thank you for being my friend
Thank you for being

Thank you for being you
Thank you for being

Thank you for being my friend
Thank you for being

Thank you for being here with me
Thank you for being

Yawn

The wolf rolled its head back and yawned, then coughed and choked, eyes white in the moonless night. When the world was silent again, the moon reappeared behind the pine trees, a jagged slice missing from its edge.

Airport arrivals

An elderly couple catches sight of their daughter. There are long, long hugs. Mum hides her tears by straightening her daughter’s collar, Dad does the same by busily wheeling the trolley away. Daughter does not hide her tears, she lets them flow from wide-open eyes, but slows them by smiling tight-lipped at people in the waiting crowd. And the tears seem to be as catching as yawns; I am one of the grown men clearing my throat, my fist to the bridge of my nose. Then, recognising a shared emotion through the tears, we nod and smile at strangers. And then we all move in our own directions.

Wind-kicked leaves

Wind-kicked leaves, red and golden, drift slowly down to autumn bed. The sinking sun touches horizon trees, is laced with branches and leaves us, leaves us a fire-shot sky of evening.

The houses call us – no, not the houses, home, the shelter. Hand in hand, our backs to the dying in the distance, we fade away to deeper darkness.