‘And down by the lake, there was the trail of a star, hanging on like that spark…’ - Spark Like a distant train, all memory and ghosts and seeing things slipping past in sepia hues. Then driving under stars at night with city lights in the mirrors and the road pushing onwards, onwards; Being lost in your own backyard; Waiting for a sign that never comes; Reaching for moments as they disappear; Liberation in being invisible; Conversations that mean nothing and everything, and the tide always changing.
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Everyone Was Swimming
Will you wonder
Silver Light
Fictions
Strangers in the backyard
Stalling
Fill Me In
Salute the summer
Leaving Ghosts
Firelight
Spark
Off His Feet
Rust and the sea
Loose Threads
Summer Crept In
On Rain, On Night
Poetry Extra
Go To Sleep
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