General

It’s 8 o’clock in the eveningThe birds still singIn the silhouette of the treesA bat flies pastas if he knows where he’s goingThe trains whisk

There’s a lot of love about if you look in the right placesThe quiet gaps of long-ago friendships that returnAround the corner from new friendsWho

My heart breaks as IPass a cushion on which you sleptNotice the cat flap without your little face poking throughSee the shed at the end

The house is full of empty spaceswhere once a black shape wandered,sleek in his feline body,perched high in his superiority,two golden eyesin their glossy black

Never againThat’s what they said,Those Holocaust survivorsWho never wanted others to suffer as they did. Never againThat’s what they said,The parents who lost a child

I lie in my bath, and I think of her,many worlds away in Kiev,where the air raid sirens blareand drones endlessly circle overhead. I lie

I reach my hand up to the skyand touch a silencesoft as a silken spider’s web. The only sound, in blossom-laden trees,are songbirds,their twitter like

I’ve learnt that I mustrealise there’s far lesson the menuso I shouldflip and not flapstop then maybe godo headstands or somersaultsto look at life differentlystretch

I would love to dance among the stars,sprinkle stardust over the earth,light up minds and be-glitter hairstyles.I would love to walk around the moonfeel its