Swimming

We all learned to swim,
held by the same waters.
And we've all been helpless,
standing on the sand shouting,
as the ones we love
get caught in rips. Watching,
while they're pulled out by the tide
and carried away.

But it's those odd days we find,
sea-glass, amongst the rocks,
that shines.
Beautiful mementos,
like shards from stained-glass windows,
sent from the ones
who just wound up
on different shores
in distant bays,
just to let you know
that things turned out okay.

Silver Linings

The moon sinks behind 

clouds that drown 

in the flooded floor of Barmah Forest

Fish swim serene in the silver linings

I sit on the bank 

and even looking down 

can still count the stars 

in the sunken sky

More Haiku

A quick minute ago it was decided that I'd attempt to write a haiku a day, for an entire month. Shockingly, I failed that challenge twelve days in. Even more shockingly, of those twelve haiku, seven enough were good enough (read: passable enough) for me to cobble together another post. You will find those seven below.

A Crack In Everything

Leonard Cohen once crooned,
There is a crack in everything,
that’s how the light shines through.
Or something to that tune.

And I’ve been told that if walls could speak,
they’d tell me what to do.
But Nasreem Mohamedi took a photo in 1972.

The skirting board; a crack in the floor
just before the wall, from which only darkness seeps.
Like the hands of time, a twilight over life, that creeps.

Cohen may be right, but if so his cracks are few.
And maybe it’s not the walls,
but the cracks in the floor
I should be listening to.

Four Haiku

Four haiku I've written at various points over the last few years.