On fallow, Torn, faded fabric, River rocks, Caught the tatters of her threads, Taunted and bellowed, the garden snakes riff, Her feet a shell of broken skin and bone, Behind a weatherboard shack, Peeling the paint back, The door of … Continue reading


Sleeping in the fields,
Amongst the sweet scented stems of faded lilacs,
And straw reeds,
Russian violet nights,
And pearls and tiger stripes,
She rolls in lush clover sighs,

Awakens on dawn,
Tiptoes across the stepping stones,
And mossy throws,
Golden poppy sunshine,
Lace threads, and floral bloom,
She wraps herself in first light,

My darling, I’ll be home soon.