1 am creeps along the bedroom walls, it moves as vast shadows cast by a navy night sky hanging above a light polluted town. The woman is awake; 1 am can hear the fabricated waves of meditation and white noise. She would rock herself to sleep if she could wrap her arms about herself … Continue reading 1 am
She paid more attention to bird song this week. She heard it at six am and how it had changed by nine. She heard it in the car park after work, she heard it in the trees outside. She heard it at night when she was running a bath. She does not know which … Continue reading She Listened
Static is pure Birdsong is sweet yet neither are as honest as you. ___________________________ WP #6: birdsong Link your response in the comments below. Image credit.
Amongst hues of copper, lilac and mange tout flittering balls of feather and dust call and sing, dance in the wind. I wonder if they mind the chatter the clatter, over one another? Beneath boughs and above leaves feathers puff, beaks thrust and fingernail wings wave in ecstasy for sex, no rest. To … Continue reading Mating