Wind Snares

It rains

just a little bit

enough for smoothing

the rough edges

of the pavement

In the flat

we open doors

deploy door-stoppers

open windows

like traffic-policemen HALT palms

catching air

catching hope

airing these rooms

with conversation

the wind blows me 

to you

we smile

and say

its really nice weather

we breathe

our kill

the wind-chime grins

its chimes bloody

with fresh-caught breeze

it is good

it is good

it will be good

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Damp

 

There is a wet smell in the air;
it has been raining while I slept.
The sulphurous autumn skies burst
drizzling over lonely roads,
making them gleam in the dusk.
The mynahs chatter, shaking out their wet feathers.
It is colder now, the wind nips at my fingers
It is not long till night falls.
I lie in wait
suspended in uncertainty;
The wet smell is in my being
dampening my heart as I lie still.

A parrot shrieks; it is time to fly home.
It is time. Time to fly home.

 

 

– originally written 17.10.2011