Lion

The sun falls on our heads

We are lions 

Chewing on old bones and dollies

It tastes like rust on our tongues

And does not quell our hunger

The light dapples the leaves on the tree

Mother left a long time ago

She chuckles to herself

Pleased to have moved on perhaps 

I am scared of morphing into

My mother

She waits in the shadows

Pursues me

I wish I could roar at her

Keep her at bay

But these are modern times

I nod my head

Give greetings and love

All for nothing

She squeals

I think she likes being a lion

It suits her blonde hair

She roars majestically

I wish I had her courage

She takes my hand

Leads me out into the light 

Another day to come

Another hunt to win. 

Sunflower

She plucks the sunflower

Out of the concrete wall

It makes her hair shine

Like the sun

In her hands it blooms

Gives hope

She is up with the larks

I am down with the worms 

She skips along the path

It would be nice

If we could find a field today

She trills

I would like to feel the

Dewy grass beneath my toes

She runs ahead

I am held back

By age and pain

But she never leaves my sight

I dread the thought

Of losing her

I'm not going anywhere

Silly

She reads my thoughts

And my body

A battlefield of sorts

Perhaps we will take the sunflower home

Put it in a vase of water

Place it on a window sill

Is that any better than growing

In a concrete wall

Flowers deserve to be planted

To nestle their roots in the earth

And grow

I follow her 

She skips

Dances 

And hums a tune

I think I know where she is going

And I smile. 

Visitors

We stand together

In the open doorway

In our head we are greeting visitors

Old and young

Big and small 

We let the night breeze

Caress our faces

The stars touch us

Like magical fingertips

It makes our faces glow

Like lions 

It is dark

The wick on the candle

Is burning low

Its energy draining 

Like weary bones

Our weary bones

Only yours

Silly

My bones are fine and tender

Ready for riddles

And adventures

I can teach you how to be ready too

She says

She shuffles nimbly on her toes

Bars of sugary sweets in her hands

Perhaps we can sail away

To the sea shore

She chuckles

When the visitors have entered

And we have welcomed them in

Perhaps we can little cricket

It would be good to taste the

Salt on our lips

The night passes

We slowly close the door

My body is numb and ready for sleep

She will play for hours more

How lucky we are

I think 

To have each other

And our adventures. 

Reflection

I look at my reflection

In the spilled water

I get older every day

More lines and wrinkles

Worries and woes

I tell her she is lucky

To be young

Constant

She twirls and spins

Happy with her long blonde hair

And tiny toes

I drink water 

Out of a wine glass

That is the way it has to be now

She tips the glass upside down

To her it is our writing glass

If we turn it upside down

The letters fall out

And we arrange them

Into poems 

She claps her hands

She lives in my poems

So do you

She whispers 

I watch her face 

It sparkles and shines

I watch her lips

Singing a nonsense song

I should really wipe up the water

But I sit and keep watching 

All that we have

And all that we are. 

Cave

We touch the walls

Of our cave

Everyone watches

As our fingers

Sweep the walls

A fine layer of dust

Gets caught underneath our nails 

I cradle her like a baby bird

One with a broken wing 

We have made a bed

And sit on it

Out of the wind 

Perhaps change is coming

Perhaps it has passed us by

Like a train

Bypassing the streets

One we did not ride

The cave is like a womb

We go there

When the world is loud

And the noise bites our skin

We remember the soft room

The real place

Where everyone watched us

Fall apart

We blink

Shut away the hallucination 

We are all alone in the cave

For this moment in time 

It is where we want to be

No one can force us to stay

We will not let ourselves down and leave

Our touch cave is magical

Safe and sound. 

Grey

I sit on the worn 

Wooden chair

And she brushes

My long grey hair

I am not sure

Who is old now

My body is full and wrinkled

Hers a child 

But in many ways 

She is older than me

She has certainly seen 

Some adventures 

I have seen worry 

And pain 

I like how smooth my hair feels

It is as exquisite

As browsing the library

Sitting on top of the ladder

Devouring the words

Later we may dip our toes in the sea

Or paddle a kayak 

On the river of tears 

Dive to the bottom and make shapes

With our bodies

Then of course

We will come home for tea

At such times we are both women

Sitting in our top hats

Holding our cards

Maybe smoking fine cigarettes

Playing the game

As equals

Each of us wishing

The other will win. 

Letters

She holds the pencil 

In her hand

Her wrist bends

Fragile as a baby bird 

I lean in softly 

Towards the paper 

And her tiny body 

The forms of words

Appear before our eyes

We bury ourselves

Beneath the pages 

Of our notebook

It keeps us safe

Like a warm home

With buttered toast

And tea

As natural as breathing

As scary as expressing

Our fears 

The room is quiet

All we can hear is the 

Scrape of the lead

And the rustling of paper

It is moments like this

Which we enjoy 

I think to myself

As she hums a tune 

If she is my girl

Then I am the mother

Of letters. 

The River

We take our shoes and socks off

We are visiting the river

There are no stones 

In our pocket

It has been raining

We plunge our feet

Into the mossy earth

It soothes our bleeding toes

We are not sure how long

We have been walking

Our clothes are wet 

So it must have been some time

It feels strange to be

Outside the house

The sky is big

The ground accepts us

We look at our crumpled 

Brown boots

They are supple

After years of use

Alice left her patent shoes behind

So now we match

Although

I would never wear a dress

She giggles

The rain drops glisten in

Her blonde hair

There is never a moment

When she is not beautiful 

I will always be scarred

We are visiting the river

But there are no stones in our pocket. 

Commune

The falcon flies overhead 

We crane our necks 

And look up

We sit at our desk

Safely gathered in 

Our little commune

The sky is blue

There are bridges 

And water lilies 

The pond moves

Like a stream with nowhere

To flee

We do not want to leave this dream

It is a fine place to sleep

We take an empty jar

Fill it with dust

Memories and paint

Light brushes on canvas

The essence of life

All the good things 

Bottled up

We must stay in the light

Stop falling into the 

Darkness

We have no place there

Not any more

We hold hands

Take a deep breath in

Capture the beauty of being.