One Hundred and Eighteen.

28/4/14

Izzy circle

izzy

chardonnay swirling like captured sunlight in mottled hands
rough-cut, wood-hewn hands that built these walls

the sea snuck up through the trees, slipped through the flyscreen
rumbling and rolling now in the depths of your laugh

the tin roof is ticking and the old fridge humming, glass clink
and every roof beam is leaning in closer, listening in

yarns unroll across swept slate floors and threadbare carpets
in the morning the dishes will dry and kookaburra laugh

*

Sarah circle

sarah

Got a little splinter in my thumb it seems
Keeps twitching near highways and road trains
Flicking out like it knows just where it’s going
And it’s anywhere but here

*

Advertisements

Have words to throw back at us?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s