I laugh the ghost to dust return
I tip the lid on Monday’s urn
The clouds of yesterday’s refrain
Hold me fast in ropes of rain
I paint the sky with fusillade
I drink the day with lemonade
Sour thoughts on trees of ruin
Hang my fears upon the moon
My fingers branch across her face
There to orbit and embrace
with tectonic plates and kitchen knives
All the dreams of tethered lives
I kiss the lips that taste my soul
Embrace the heart my own to hold
And sailing on that tender touch
My crippled mood casts its crutch
I call the ghost of no return
Hold my heart a pulse to yearn
The sky dissolves the day’s remains
The colours from my eye to drain
February 2009
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