Archives: Poem Gallery

high moon
on returning tides
the seeds of islands

high moon
another strawberry
Laurel’s tongue

high moon
in the ten thousand scents
exhaled by the earth

high moon
the railway tracks
leading to rust

high moon
the well water
too deep to raise

high moon
geese forsaking
their father lands

high moon
turning the corner
an infirmed friend

high moon
such a weight the dew hangs
from the spider webs

high moon
where the garden rusts
the wheels of my bike

high moon
the city drains
un-corking their odours