4 – closing

she lay, a hill in the half light

an echo of laughter creased her brow

a rag crumpled, against the wooden floor

lips parted

a drop of blood kissing the still soft strands of hair

dressed in the memory of a mothers love, knit one pearl one

a tear stain, left drying on her check

the last thought of a life

 

 

3 – the office

rattle, tick, hum, tock.

the air stale, tinged by a hint of decay.

crackle, spit, embers pop.

a chorus of motors hum, my ears cry,

it quietens slowly, softly, ssh.

2 – wings

her wings sing as she hovers by my shoulder.
music dancing on my skin.
our hearts visit the winds memories.
wings beating, air rushing though my hair, tangled.
I float
I am a dream caught in the wrong body.

1 – I am

I am, winters sharp tongue, its Icey stare, full of rain.

I am, springs first kiss, its bloom, its heartbeat.

I am, summers smile, lingering on loves lips, the age of consent.

I am ,autumn crinkling beneath your feet, whispering in shadow, memories.

I am, beginning, blood, cells, lightening

I am, ending, earth, decay, hunger.

 

 

24 – night-

I see little until my eyes adjust,

a sprinkle of tiny stars not hidden

behind the heavy winter clouds,

the moon, fat and round today

shinning a gloomy green from

behind  clouds, limbs bouncing

in the wind, leaves swaying,

the glint of light of a tin roof,

possums running along the back

fence, then the wind drops and

all seems still.

 

-s.j.duncan-

23 – fingernails-

Distance is a bridge we can never cross,

memory the only place we survive,

the hunger in your eyes, echoed by mine,

our surrender complete, then fate

dealt her hand, I remain an echo walking

through years and you dust turning to land.

 

-s.j.duncan-

 

22 – the portrait –

I stand alone, in an empty room, my gaze missing,

my hunger hidden, he paints my curves with delicate

lines, my nose demanding attention, the dress dark

and wanting against my pale skin waiting to be touched by

the maid has she peels me  from this velvet concoction.

this portrait for the wall, will watch as l grow old.

 

-s.j.duncan-

21 – dreamer-

I have watched this girl for a while now,

she is becoming more like the trees she loves

so much, every time my eyes catch her tiny

frame wondering through the bush, her skin

etched with wonder lines her hair mattered like

branches, the sun dulling her to an earthy brown

the rain leaving river beds in the country of her body,

the seas tide marks wander up her legs, salt crystals

cling to the soft down on her legs. she has become the

ebb and flow of an old memory, a spirit of land.

 

-s.j.duncan-

20 – bills walk-

I love the walk ,along revegetated cliffs looking out

towards an ancient rocky island, I could be a thousand

miles from any where, snakes, koalas, wallabies live in

this corridor, gums and banksias keep the road hidden

but soon I come to wooden paths, stairs resting places

beautiful but not wild they disguise the great white pipeline

with flora but l see it, I taste its pollution returning from sea

it brings jobs and poison to town.

-s.j.duncan-

19 – infinity –

There is no time here in the darkness, I float watching my

home spin an endless merry go round of lights and smog,

this  body is dying sinking in upon itself, setting me free, once

I thought freedom was a rich mans luxury, now I know different,

my spirit shakes itself from its mortality, from its death and imagines

everything and knows it no longer has those desires it stretches and

it is galaxies away humanity a vague memory on its journey.

 

-s.j.duncan-