Published in Poets' Letter web site
Shadows of Eagles
Shadows of eagles cross my path
and like a field mouse, I freeze
waiting for the rush of wind-torn feather;
the grasp of talons on my back.
Still they wheel about me.
I know the way I must follow,
I can see what I must do,
My road stretches before me
straight and clear and true.
But shadows of eagles cross my path
and I cannot move.
Updraught
Like an autumn leaf,
I slip from the branch,
spiralling down
to lie bedraggled
on the cold, rain swept path.
You take me up
and wrap me carefully
between the pages of your book,
letting the unspoken words
preserve me within
until you open it once more
and lift me gently in your fingertips.
With a breath you release me
into the growing updraught
and I rise into a clearing sky.
Hansel
It is dark in the forest,
and all sound is swallowed
by the cathedral trees.
My sister’s hair glows
in the cunning moonbeams
piercing the darkness.
"I'm not afraid," I tell her.
She needs the company of lies
now that the breadcrumbs are gone.
And the sweet green smell
of failing leaves warms us
mingling with a sweeter scent
reaching out to us,
whispering bright colours
and comforts I don't trust.
But when we find the cottage
in a glade of liquorice trees,
still, we run to it laughing.
