Morgan Bach
The dark
is no longer
dark
but spotted
in gold
like the hide
of a cheetah
fast approaching
sometimes
your breath
smells like smoke
when you
wake
the sea in ribbons
of current
tangling as so many
snakes
in a nest
frozen toes
frozen skies
all day the ships
come and go
behind the burnt
pavilion
I wake
hungover
from sleep
I am the wall
your heart
cannot
leap
kelp and I
move
like we are kin
when I enter
the bush now
I am blind
a catalogue
of flowers
in my brain
I fear
will fade
one day
we won’t know
what seasons
meant
already
winter
is not
winter
the snow
hushing
us to sleep
in spring