Memoir

The wind blows,

leaves scatter.

You drift

in and out

of my mind.

Outside, the sky in so many shades of pink.

Here, a crow pecking at

the unrelenting window.

Curse

The night devoid of stars, a pale crescent hangs in a corner. Down on the street below a bitch moans in childbirth. My dreams charred with a recurring fear of something

I don’t know.

Oblivion

the night thickens around the bush,

not a footstep to be heard,

the snake slithers back

to the undergrowth.