the cart trundles hard-packed road no rush no haste One purpose. backpack of belongings all my things left at the crossroad me the...

Slipping and sliding along the sidewalk we stumble down to the corner shop like disgruntled crows thrown off their perches. Our glasses...

There is a kind of sad that shrinks and shrivels and says, "I think I saw it coming." It accepts but weeps, it smiles but grieves,...

You say you're thinking forward (you betray yourself) — you're absorbed, enchanted, lulled to sleep by deftly picked guitar strings,...

The metal man lies bruised and battered between the cobbled stones. A common office-sign, half his leg is buried in the soil, and his...

I lay on my back on the windowsill, pillows cushioning my back and head, legs stretched up against the wall so they make an angle that is...

Time of Our Lives plays on the Bluetooth speaker, softly so they don't wake the neighbours as they crawl into the single bed an hour...

If, when old age comes, I sit quietly by a window with a view of open fjords and mountains that would make the British marvel, then I...

Death: that is a common fear Spiders are just as frequent Darkness Heights Loneliness, isolation You know these fears People Sadness...

Like an octopus in deep waters it overwhelms you with inky blackness when night settles and there is nothing left to do, to keep your...

I bought the house, walls painted blue and rooms half furnished with empty bed frames and hollow shelves and nails in the walls, but no...

Sitting at your window we watch the water rise in blue waves like those in Mediterranean bays that lap against the doorframe one floor...

With one eye she watches the shower as she turns her face into the spray. With the blue bedside lamp turned on she watches the shadows...

You hobble by on a broken leg, splintered, bandaged, and covered with a trouser leg, and hope that no one notice. Once out of sight you...

We sit in shadows, at each our desk and plastic chair, content with each our pain. Only when another shadow screams do we get up and...

Great grey paws stretch in through the vale Floating forward Sinking into the lake Resting after a long journey Encasing the peaks in...

Like Venice drowns in her own bedrock, so I sink into a scalding bath when the day is done. Coals smoulder beneath my tub, turning the...

Rain rumbles down. Soft, like a continuous shower, it drifts across the lake and turns the clear glass into rumpled stucco, then fades...

When the play ends and the lights go out, we flitter home by silent roads. Every whisper, every hum, fades into a gentle night that...

Grey-haired, weary-eyed, bent, he stands on the street and tells a tale—a tale of an aerial dancer entwined in her silks, turning above...