Saturday, 27 December 2014

Shorts





1.
A yellowing
dry leaf
burning amber in the mud.


2.
A passed down book
with pages as soft
as grandma's palms.


3.
Whenever around people
she curled her toes inward
like little tortoise heads.


4.
The old rag picker
Scraping off a slab of gold
Under the streetlight.


5.
The bruised fingertips
Of the church pianist
Changed each note a little.


6.
Mum’s scorched hands
Covered in white flour.
Dinner time.


7.
Corners of her sad smile
Smeared on my hand
As I go through mother’s
Charcoal sketches.


2 comments:

  1. Like a rolling woollen thread
    Slipped away from hands
    When you reach out to it
    A beautiful trail is formed
    Just like the haikus you carved!

    Lovely read :-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you, most eloquent reader. ;)
    Waiting to read your work too.

    ReplyDelete