A Donation of Shoes

She stands on tip-toes

Face pressed against the glass

Flapping her arms

Pretending to fly 

Or swim 

Through the clouds

I open the closet

Inside is a donation of shoes

They are flat and brown

With thick white laces

They look

Just like the lace

On my dress

She giggles

I pull at the edges

Of the thread

Thoughts linger in my mind

How many pairs of shoes 

Have I had

How many more will I need

It makes me confused

Sad

My shoes last forever 

She trills

Her hair shining 

In the morning sun

How wonderful it would be

To be beautiful 

I rub my hands together

They are cold and dry 

I am thankful for the 

Donation of shoes

I will put in brown laces

And call them my own. 

A Winter Twilight

We follow the silver path

Deep into the trees

Far away from the sinking fields

And the treacle black river

The fir cones

Scratch our naked feet

But we are happy

Running

Jumping

Laughing

What a curious sound

That is

She giggles

We could never be apart

I whisper quietly

Between splashes and cracks

She taps my shoulder

Leans in close to me

Tiny fingers patting down

Tap

Tap 

Tap

On my prickly flesh

Time to be chased

She roars with delight

So I follow her down

Deeper into the darkness

I look up

The stars are guiding us home

Over the fence

Through the gates

Back safe before the sun rises

It feels good

To breathe in this winter twilight

It makes us soar and sing

We have survived

Little Cricket

And we dance and sway

Celebrating

The dawn of a new day. 

Butcher

The butcher sweeps the floor

It smells like death

And fear

She sighs

It is a week before Christmas 

The animals hang in the window

We make out the shapes

In the dim morning light

I hope we won't see Rabbit

We follow the butcher's hands

They look hurt

Bloodied and chapped

From all the dicing and chopping

We wonder what he thinks

There is a fog in his eyes

Perhaps he feels nothing

Perhaps that is the only way 

To be a butcher

Somehow the scene is frozen

As if we are stuck

In a carnival of horrors

The smell of meat and sawdust

Turns our stomach

We drag our feet away

Walk by the church

It is locked

We imagine the minister inside

Praying to an empty congregation

So many people have their own disguises

I think

Packaged up in clothes and places

What are we

I wonder

Watchers 

She says

Adventurers 

I reply

The light comes up 

As we unlock our door

It is silent

The air is cool and clean

We slowly forget the butcher

And all that we have seen.

Bone Shadows

I feel her

Down in my bones

She is light and dancing

Like fairy cakes

On a summers day

Eaten with cloudy lemonade

Like oxygen

And blood

It is as if we have absorbed

One another

Learnt to survive

Solved puzzles

Squeezed through doors

Gone around in circles

Played

And wept

Laughed

And screamed

Do you remember when you sang

She asks

I do little cricket

I do

I lost my head

In a twinkling star

I remember the bridge

And the powder

The cans

And the liquid

It is part of me

My story

A shadow on my back

An iron hammered into my bones

That is why you need me to dance

She squeals

The page is slowly turning

Soon the past

Will turn from black to grey

It will never be forgotten

Perhaps it will be like a ladder

Stepping stones

Edging us closer 

Towards the sun. 

Gingerbread

A week before Christmas

We will make gingerbread

Ice them with peppermint cream

Press our thumbnails into the 

Warm sugary paste

Lick our fingers

Spin around in circles

Like two little children

Lost in a fable

Will we find our way out

Of the forest 

She giggles

Of course little cricket

We are too old for surprises 

We just need to snap our fingers

And click our heels 

To get back 

It is like landing after a sugar crash

Our clothes torn

Our hair wind swept 

Feet firmly placed

In this room we call home

She shuffles the deck of cards

I took out all the Red Queens

Hid them in a box

As if we could ever forget her

Beyond these walls

Are places we miss

Churches with mangers

Hills with wild flowers

And mud to jump in

Gravestones

To remember 

Water

To forget 

They are there

Even if the door is closed

And the curtains are drawn

Like a gingerbread house

She squeals

Will we be alright

She asks

Yes I say

We will always find a way.

'J'

She holds the letter in her hand

It shines silvery blue

In the pale orange light

Just like her dress

Or a fading star

J

She whispers

It has a curve and a straight line

I like how it rests 

In her palm

How the shape of it 

Curls around her tongue

j j j

I think

Such a simple letter

Too small to hold the weight

Of something great

That is why you added

The a and e

She giggles

It makes the same sound

But is bigger somehow

You

And me

Bound together

She passes me the J

I hold it 

It does not sparkle like it did for her

I feel the curve

Run my fingers up the spine

It feels real

But at the same time a dream

I wonder who gave me the J

If life may have been different

With another letter

I think it is perfect

She says

It has shaped you 

Held you

Pushed you

Brought you back

Perfect I think

Nothing else could suit me better. 

Mistletoe

The candle flame

Flickers and kisses

Our skin

We are sleepy

The dark skies and rain

Weigh down upon our shoulders

The weight of winter

Lurking like footsteps

On the stairs 

Our lips are cracked

Parched

Like old paper

The Red Queen

Has gone

Perhaps that makes us lonely

We liked how she lit us up

Like Christmas lights 

She dared to touch

Passed her electricity through us

Now our head is heavy

And nodding

We tilt our face up 

See the mistletoe

There are dancers in the air

Busy as our thoughts

We like the sharp green leaves

The red berries

Perhaps we should 

Wear it in our hair

She squeals 

Like a wreath

To remember those who have left us

And wait for those who still may come

We look into the candlelight

Watch it move with our breath

Gentle and warm

The heart of us

The small glow of life

That waits to be held.  

Lost Days

What day is it

I ask

The moon hangs on a spindle thread

In the middle of the sky

Glowing softly

Like warm skin

She claps her hands

And answers

Not quite yesterday

Not quite tomorrow

I wonder how many days

We have lost

Dreaming

Looking for signs

Falling out of our heads

No day is lost

She says

They all build up 

And make you who you are

I think as the room grows lighter

Have I grown

Will I ever feel right

At peace

How very dull that would be

She giggles

I grew once and then shrank

It was all part of the adventure

Just like your thoughts

I let her words rest in the air

It feels peaceful somehow

As if the ticking watch is a heartbeat

Slow

Steady 

Constant

No chasing or running

Just being still

Perhaps it is the music of days passing

Skies changing

Moon swapping places with sun

Light and dark

The days pass

Whether we want them to or not

Some we conquer

Some we lose

But always they are ours.