22 Aug 2015


For the briefest time, we are disgorged into
a singing world of submarine blue. Grey gives way
to cool ochre as heat bleeds into the sole
in cicada concertos.

Crystalline air melts into gross humidity to
freight the lungs with effort.
Panting, we sweat like dogs in summer.

Waste no time in relaxation, gather the moments
in a press of sensation and memory as
hours glide past, filed in portmanteaus of time
shuffled with warm palms - framed in colour.

Shave away the tinted facets, zoetroped into 
a thousand portals,through which to wish 
when held to a future light.

Delighting the eye, delivering the soul
home to a paradisical place as raindrops
steal like sweat across the furrowed
temples of reality.