After a pause due to computer woes, I return to the airwaves with this offering. Its predominant theme appears to be the fear of change which, for me at least, is pervasive.

On The Border

The sky's dissolved in enveloping greys,

close as blankets, cold like hotel sheets;

looking over your shoulder as dawn raises day -

you test the gloaming's disdain for lamp-lit streets.

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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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