EG

down south the leaves are falling
dangerous choices made
a life not chased by masses
can therefore not persuade

and yet, she can see from where she stands
the clouds have held out their hands
because it is bright, and it is quiet

space to soar and think allows
for her to find the answer:
they will always be
too busy on themselves

the wattle on the postage stamp
on the letter she wanted to send –
she knows her worth
her potential, her limits…
and receive it
they wouldn’t comprehend

amber lights from broken glass:
wasted numbness
with shaking hands
she cannot grasp

rolling hills under her eyes
sleepless nights and jilted dreams
the entrance to her endings
she wants to soar
but dragged down from the sky, she seems

her wings are broken
mend them, yes she will
for lost hopes and unanswered questions
she ignores it all
with tenderness still

lemon light peeking through the frosty window
the new day gifts warm apprehension
her favourite scarf hanging on the cupboard door
is the last thing she packs
with no intervention

goodbyes, said none
a ghost of the depths, she fled
up high, you can no longer see her
for she is what your own dreams have said

“your dreams are within reach”, she cries
“take life’s losses and meet me in golden skies”
she looks at me with tender eyes
I now see that they were always mine

a mirror, not a window
I was looking through
And now I know what I must do

follow me
here
and you will see
contemporary ideals will not set you free
the colour of your future
is for you to decide

for me? it was all:
yellow