Which place are you from?

This is home                         now

brightly painted room

faded carpet             mustard recliners

matching cushions

malodorous wafting odours

rose scented freshener

vanquished

you look vacantly

the screen blurred

your gaze falls on me

follows me around the room

Apo pio meros eisai?

Which place are you from?

stroking my hand             seeking connection

meeting of eyes

a shared colour            a shared tongue

strange familiarity

brittle fragments of memory       like bone

dispersed inside your head

the blithe state of youth

the blue of the ocean

olive groves            left behind

faces clear with misplaced names

warm August nights            eating figs

ripened by the sun

seasons clear            with purpose

soft pallor of young skin now worn

life’s map             a destiny

Apo pio meros eisai?

Published in Social Alternatives January 2015

1915: A Fobwatch

an heirloom- fraught

sepia- stained memory

a fob watch

yearns                        ticking

images of home

woman heavy with child

olive trees             ripened August figs

you never return

a memory remains

the woman clothed in black

Published in Pash Capsule January 2015

Parts Remembered

I remember you in pieces

body parts and silence

less painful this way

Fingers first

long, lean, guitar strumming

lingering on a note

Your eyes follow  

dark and searching

persistent   

No longer tormenting

I remember you in pieces

less painful this way

Published in Pash Capsule June 2015