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Arrows of Rain

On the wall of my empty room

I think I'll hang a picture of rain.


Hitting the ground,

And bouncing up to ankles,


The rain will be wetting my socks

And trousers from below;


My eyes will follow




...tick, tick, tick...

Checking everything on the picture,


Until catching a black brolly,

And the shiny enamel shoes,


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The Eye of Morning

The Eye of Morning


I am the arrow of dawn, and

rise as the archer kneels,

strains his bow, sets the sky ablaze,

dissolves at the borderland

between light and shade, Heaven

and Hell; his firebrands mere crass

cascades of incendiary petals,

guttering in chiaroscuro swells.

Behold the evanescent rose-glow

of morning's opening eye.


Chris Hubbard

Perth. 201...

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