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

Roof-edges,

Streets,

Sidewalks,

...tick, tick, tick...

Checking everything on the picture,

Until catching a black brolly,

And the shiny enamel shoes,

Read and leave comments (2)

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...

Read and leave comments (2)