Water Fragments

They come to me in dream form
These pieces from a mismatched subconscious
The shimmer on a dark sea
A pool, surrounded by rock, quiet green fronds of ferns
A strong chlorinated chill in an unidentified place
Salt spray, gasping for breath under the pull of a wave
These fragments float like miscellaneous glass
Making a stained glass window of my night visions

Heat

It is still dry
The wind blows, the leaves, feathers, grass flies above the ground
Some call this a sickly heat
A depressed lawn, crunching underfoot
A bird call in the afternoon
Solitary cloud
But it is the smell of liberation
Not a fragranced masked scent behind the door
This heat bring my head up, like a dog eyes closed, breathing in the wind
This dust
This breathing living wind with no sea salt
Pulling up the yellow grass smells
This is my freedom
Bringing no moisture, collecting only red soil

Possession

She took the path we were making,
narrow and long
we carved it out in the dark
we removed the rocks
we wrote our names on those rocks
we made this path
sometimes we held hands, sometimes we walked apart
needing space, one would take the lead, the other would fall to her knees
this was our path, a walking history measuring our steps

She stepped between us from the trees
she kicked dust in my face, pushed me away
she took your hand
no one saw the tears falling from my dust drowned face
I turned around
and walked back into history.

I am taking back ownership of this path
I am running through that kicked up dust
towards you

Jungle Girls

We are the jungle girls
they say
we don't need a mother
they say
we understand when water speaks
they say
we hear the wind and the leaves
they speak, they say
in their own language
mixing wind, water and trees
the jungle girls
who defend the garden from the pirate enemy
taking the seeds from the birds,
and sailing away on stolen water from the birdbath