She listens on

to the melody void of octaves

A phantom grasping under uncertainty

Reality handed her a flaming torch

Her dress billows in the breeze

as she burns herself free

disarrayed by flames.



He was just five
When you were gone
From a cool-off drive
Each day he waits, heavier his feet on the lawn.

His eyes set sight
At the familiar swing
Everything’s not right
Without you, his wings
You promised him
You’d read him stories.

Eventually stars dimmed
Without the sun
Forming a dust stream
Of sadness, weighs a tonne.