Stone Soup

Forming the core
drawing down
the basil, the butternut
swirling the nutmeg
is my heart, sinking like a flavoured stock rock
into the warmth of the steaming soup

auditory, visual

When I hear her
eating her peanut butter sandwich
with a blocked nose
breathing heavily through her mouth
your face falls away in front of me
like a thousand burning teardrops

Day dreaming

In this crossword lined with fortunes, Fortuners

I put my head down

and see a singing sea

a tribal dance drummed out 

by the fireside of the Kalahari

clouds gaining grey force over the dirt

night swimming

your dreams are shipwrecked
paint washed bleached
corners sharpened
boxed in the sea, floating unidentified

Autumn

she releases her feet
falls back
into the pile of golden leaves
with complete faith
as is she is falling into a tidal pool
of belly bubbling laughter

Children

Let a word of wisdom whisper
across the roads, across the plains,
across the squatter camps
to every child without a voice
giving them the right
to speak

Silo

He climbs down the ladder
he tries to protect himself
he buries a box deep beneath the ground
he has found a hiding place
beneath the ground
he is from another country, running in the night
to start a new life
leaving behind searing beating, heat, colour
hiding in in the night
in a silo