Wednesday, 11 December 2019

Palimpsest












Living on a surface
scraped clean by time,
the geology of generations,
the faint striations of what was
once perfected and worn away
to nuance and supposition;
not one scratch, a truth,
an approximation
of the silence
of a ghost.

Sunday, 8 December 2019

Tea
















tea
and sympathy
never enough to forestall
the crumbling remains
of yesterday

Wednesday, 4 December 2019

Droplet














Falling, in the bleak rain,
this uncertain weather,
under a barometer of sky
where altitude pressures air
where clouds in turmoil
twist fog around the sun,
an arc as fluid as time’s days,
time’s years as rounded
as the planet’s shoulder,
the empty horizon a shrug,
disquiet and disinterest
hunched beneath it.