After the heat passed out of our veins
and cold sucked all energy
right through the soles of our feet
to the same place shadows reached to.
When your voice seemed to linger,
your smile flickering in my periphery.
That was when I turned my head,
slow and deliberate,
lips caught around words
I’d wished I’d said to you.
Salt stiffened, her wings don’t lift
except pinwheeling feathers
caught helter-skelter by sea breeze,
sun bleached and lichen lined.
Watches for the hands rising,
faces breaking among shallows,
hope and desperation.
She sings for them.
Caged in her cove, she sings.
She call them lollygagger,
adjusted the folds of her scarf,
let them watch her fingers
trace the sweep of her collarbone
like a wink
but not an invitation.
Clutched at the other hand
with smaller, damp digits
unsure eyes flickered from her
to the jackal-backed boys
circling their cigarettes,
tongues dragging across their teeth.
Nothing to be afraid of dear.
Isabelle eyed the two black boxes on the kitchen table.
‘Do I have to?’
‘Yes,’ said her mother, spine poker straight in her chair. ‘Pick a box or choose the door, the choice is yours.’
The memory of her brother’s body inches from the front door rose in Isabelle’s memory.
‘Left,’ she whispered and closed her eyes while her mother opened it.
For a millennium you were glacial.
Slid oh so slow
through dirt, and stone,
turned mountains into valley paths,
cracked plains, made them seas.
We watched the snow fall,
smother you until we forgot,
when the sun shucked your coat
and the light made you shine.
Change creeps closer in millimetres,
presses the before away carefully,
slips itself into spaces
that hastiness would break.
Word Of The Day Challenge: Shine