Wednesday, May 22, 2013


Grief unmakes me
it is stacks of leaves the colour of fire
piled in gutters
rain soaking their leaf skins
bellbirds that call to each other across my garden
and cutlery ready to be put away
in this everydayness I am unmade
and assembled each day
stirring pots, washing clothes
paying bills
binding thoughts like trout lures

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Hi I love to receive comments and will endevour to reply either on this page or your blog.Kat