To see the old eyes light up,
Brittle bones easy again.

To see furrowed brows loosen,
Head high once again.

To see shoulders lighten,
Your encompassing strength rewarded.

For worries to vanish like mist,
A sense of calm over your tired shape.

That His eyes open to your deserving needs,
So you can rest your hardened pride.

For you two to re-unite,
Because no other two fit together like you.

For you to acquire the palate of finding happiness in others,
Because not everything needs to be a battle.

That a season of benevolence floods out your grim tide,
Forget you might not.

The silence in your worlds
Will find peace within resignation.

Your misplaced cradle
Will dispel your manicured air,
And let you live once again.

That your quest to reconcile all angles,
Somehow ends in a smile of contentment.

All I want for Christmas.
xxxx

I'd missed the novelty of sharing,
And quickly gotten over it
Remembering I never quite liked it anyway.

Driving down instinctive roads
There is a reassuring sense of familiarity
And it calms me.

I drove through dirt roads lined with kangaroo paw,
Not really going anywhere.

Christmas is near,
Hampers and baubles tell me.

This year I actually want to be here,
For the lack of an elsewhere.

I'm tired,
But hope you wake up with your stocking filled.

xxx

She packed: an extra bar of pride, and some good shoes.
He packed: 4 shirts, a pair of jeans, AMEX.

She flew: 4 hours, west-bound, on green vinyl seats.
He flew: away from monsoon, to where summer was budding.

She craved: long talks, mango cheeks.
He craved: diversification of portfolio.

She: tried her hand at the breakfast thing.
He: stepped on her shoe 7 times in 9 days.

She wrote while he worked.

It rained while they were warming up;
And sweltered as they rode silent in the car.

She: alleviated, sedate, monochromatic.
He: huddled on to the next busy station.

051202 MR,WA
When heart-stopping memories should not be re-enacted.
A piece of sunrise,
Frozen in its true essence.
It's strange
That I'd felt the choking heat in mid winter but
Now I find my skin retract in cloudless skies of endless days.
In these glass-swirling days of peach-infused scents,
I've retained a certain lukewarmness.
And in drizzling nights of robust shirazes,
I'd glowed in ruddy cheer.
I sit by a moth-infested wall light
Pen in hand
Awaiting the storm the forecasts say is imminent.
Contemplating this waned and pursed awakening,
I see that this Western craziness was never written to be a conquest.