‘Shes sleeping just a little longer’
Portsmouth: February 13th
Wake 5:17 from vivid dreams – PTSD has been catching me out in the open – – snapping – chasing at my heels – hard to concentrate – think to be the artist – unwelcoming neurological conditioning – let me be after for 435 days
that is enough.
Those phantasms
trapped in the mists
have closed in during the last few weeks
surrounding
a half light
twilight
tastes akin to the moments before the eclipse
witnessed on Guernsey 99 standing on concrete
Atlantic wall
wood shuttered world
without birdsong
‘there are no stars tonight’
Even in the darkness you have to keep walking – making – dreaming – escaping
stumbling forward
stones loom out of the darkness
standing in conversation
some reclining
relaxed
effortlessly suspended
desires
‘older than the ages’
the moon all holds back
all is quiet
anticipation
dread holds the pits of thousands
antique valid questioning
will the sun return?
she returns
I concentrate
as materials gather together
evolving from nutrients creating new life
forming
forming
figures in the mist
have they come for me?
yes
i am ready
as birdsong appears
before I can chase them away
our suns rise
but she is gone
