Poem Category: All

Entering dusk
a nun slips into
the priest’s confession.

Hospital bed
on my return from the tunnel
of enfolding white light.

Street worker
each shadow reaching
just where she walks.

Diaries found
each hope so neatly written
in our grandmother’s hand.

Travelling salesman
the scent of unclean rooms
too far from home.

Pet shop
for a while an old girl
with her Christmas list.

Just junk mail
knocking frost beads
from the tight wire fence.

Limp sails
after the fog lifts
the curves of porpoise.

After the hail
she hands me ravished peaches
with the bruises cut out.

A full moon tide
lapping at the jellyfish
pushes them higher.