Witchcraft

The year is almost over, dear friend
The sun is low in the sky
The trees have no leaves to rustle
And the seasons are starting to die

You came to me with a gift you had made
With three candles, some stillness and calm
The love that you gave was whispered away
Into white spells, castings and charms

You took the power that grew through the grass
That sank roots deep into the ground
And you drew it into the words that you wrote
The signs that you drew all around

And the night grew silent, the night that you chose
I suppose I didn’t know what to expect
The light grew and grew and it filled the whole room
I was waiting and holding my breath

When my eyes would reopen to the glow of the sky
When I wasn’t too dazzled to see
I searched and I travelled for weeks in your wake
I was weakened and you had left me

But I carry the gift in my hands and my head
I committed words to memory
My mind was inside of my body, my life
And your wisdom allowed me to see

The year comes around, almost another one gone
The sun begins its descent
The trees let go of their last few leaves
We await the new seasons you sent.

20p

It peels back
The spine is broken, it is creased
Discarded
How many times before?

Sold at the library
Spent, they decided these words were empty now
Another useless, pointless thing
Enough

The cover is faded
The dates are glued over
Yellow paper
The sweat of a thousand hands

You gave six months to write it
Read for twenty years
But wait two months
And you’re gone.

Never Caged

You are perched above me, looking around
And your voice… your voice
It is a song more ancient than these walls
It is something pure and beautiful

I built a box and nailed it up for you
So I could watch your children grow
I saw one fall and never get up
And I saw you turn away

The sun is out, and you dip and turn the wind
You bathe and you rest, perched once more
Once I was sure your voice was hoarse
But I waited and you sang true again

And next year, will you return?

I would hate to find you next to the road
If I did, I would pick you up gently, so as not to bend a feather
I would place you in an open box in case you were stunned
And leave you somewhere high and safe

But if you were not to fly again
And never to sing
I would lift you in my memory forever
Crudely I would whistle your song, over and over again

Not that it would matter to you.

Three Months

The car radio is singing to me
And nobody else will hear it
And the road beneath my body is travelling at speed
A speed that never remits
The glass of the window, my view of the world
Parting the waves of the rain
I’m running, I’m coming back to the start
I’m coming home again

The summer, the autumn, the month of September
The night and the afternoon
I will sleep and I eat and I know them once more
The people I cast at the dunes
My skin is turning white again
The air is growing pure
And I will return to the forest of buildings
These woods, again, shall be yours

I am turning, I’m crying and thinking of good things
Thinking of sitting alone
I shall never fully grow apart from this place
I shall miss so many crisp morning’s snow
The leaves are now falling and blowing down roads
Roads I am moving again
I push the lines around with my eyes
My resistance has grown so thin.

Children Sleeping

The candle-lit town was poised below, fully expecting the oncoming slaughter. Fathers held mothers, mothers watched sleeping children have the pleasant dreams the adults had lost many months before. The sun grew dim in the sky these days – even light was reticent on those who were so obviously damned.

The night was thick about the hills. The damp caress of these lofty allies offered no warning to the quiet ones lying in their shadow. The fires of the approaching armies would not be seen until their very town was lit.

The very walls were holding their breath for the end.

Everyone old enough to realise knew that the time was approaching. More armies had been seen, more than every before, on the plains and even the foot of the hills. Collecting crops became more and more dangerous as the season wore on.

The clock in the centre of town had stopped. It had worked since the bombs, but even time had gone. First it had become transparent, then intermittent, and finally silent.

The Bed

I am waiting
Hiding
Beneath bed sheets crumpled and heavy

I listen
Quiet
And I try and shake loose

Their grip
Tightened
Trapped beneath a drift thick, hot and airless

Sprung from
Into
The deepest thoughts of the day

Alarm calls
Shrieking
I let it talk itself back down

I’m broken
Disjointed
I am trapped inside this bed.

Keltoi

The winds picked up
I felt the breeze across my face
Pulled in the sails
I wanted to drift

We came ashore
Left the tent and the food on the boat
And we took a look around
Our new country

And in the distance
Nothing
Nothing but thick trees
And a river

And down at the river
We gave praise
Laid a shell
And cast the circle and cross

We spoke a word of thanks
To Danu
And the sun burnt the sky
With all the light of Lugh.

Little Moth

Little moth
The size of my little toenail
You spiral down form the ceiling

A cloud of sawdust
Tight, held together
By an invisible force.

The light goes off
And you are still

But with the TV on
You are reckless.

Fly towards the light that blinds you
Fly all night until you reach the sky
Fly to the moon until your wings are broken
Fly until there is no air for tiny lungs to breathe.

Every night a new challenge.

Widow's Wall

There’s a place in our town where the children won’t play
At Widow’s Wall.

The car lights don’t show you what’s there in the night
They don’t allow you to steal a glimpse.

The only way to see it’s to wander around all night
Until you’re accustomed to the dark
Waiting until the sun is about to rise
Until the land is locked in sleep

Make the long walk
Up the high street, past the peeling billboards, the closed shops, the empty schools, the quiet houses, the still cars, the sleeping dogs and cats, and the silent birds

And look for the tiny silver crack
Press your ear up close, on tiptoes, breath held until you hear your heart beating in your chest

Listen long enough, and the second before dawn
You will hear her gently sobbing for the husband that she lost.

Time and Again

They grap me with their tiny hands
Time and again

We will be locked in this battle forever, faithful friend

There is never time anymore
Time and again

We have lost the thing that led us here

The way I've looked at you
Time and again

We were never prepared for such a thing

The afternoon sun hits your bare shoulder
Time and again.

Witching Hour

The night is long without you by my side
The leaves of unopened mail left in piles
The ticking of the clock we never wound
I'll never hear a nicer sound

The light has faded from the television
And I remember how you used to listen
To music with your headphones on
With the TV blaring trash into the room

It makes me sad to remember happy times
I know now where they went and where they lie
In the witching hour I'm dreaming of you still
There is no truth, there is only another spell.