watercolour

sky is water

cold inside me
shivering speech
nature’s idioms
chill and muttering
in my blood

precipitations

rain falls
threaded from heaven
a heavy mist on the eyes
rough ropes binding sky
to a promise of weather
no climate can keep

syncope

a rush of blood
from the head
faint-hearted, limp-limbed
more like dead

narrative

there is
a narrative in rock
erosions of history in lines
striated faces at the wild world’s edge
lines seldom spoken
not a word for
anything
alive