Sunday, March 21, 2010


During the night
the wind blew over,
disturbing the density
of sleep like the call
of ghosts in a graveyard.

This morning we find
gardening gloves
spilled across the lawn,
and a body finally at rest.

Otherwise we would
have passed it off as
a wolf howl in the miasma
of dreams.

Grimace of Death

Laughter from the other room spooks her,
as if there's a den of thieves in there
crouched conspiratorily round the table
plotting obscene acts.

The laughter seems immodest and inappropriate -
far exceeding the humour of any joke
she could imagine -

sullying the dignity of a funeral day.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Some for After

Laura's heart
is scraping up sunshine
from the mint-coloured leaves
and butter-soaked daisies,
gathering warmth from the long lay
of lawn, saving sun in a golden well.

Laura's heart shines
with steadfast radiance,
emitting motes of light
to dance in sunstreams
all around us.

Thursday, March 04, 2010


Imagine me -
queen of diamonds -
in the blackest midnight sky -

transformed by time,
transformed by light,

following the feathered span of clouds,
dragging tides behind me
like a bridal gown,

rolled in sand,
stitched into my velvet chrysallis.