Jackson

The ambulance comes. My son— soft hair, round face, big eyes— gets a choice of bears: blue or yellow, both hand-knitted, character-faced, hug-sized. After some deliberation, he chooses blue, names him Bluey, cuddles him during the prodding and questioning and afterwards brings him home. It’s all the people in their ones and twos who are… Read more

24 March 2013 Perth, Western Australia To walk to the bakery I put on my fedora. I hate that it covers my ash-blonde hair but it shades my sensitive English skin. I go past the graffiti and through the park to the bridge. On my left below a railing the river glints. On my right… Read more

a tree trees music dancing a coastline a product scent or breath a shell a voice voices furniture hands or nails or fingers hands or nails or fingers a tarmac road a bird a bird fabric or coat or clothing fabric or coat or clothing fabric or coat or clothing fabric or coat a building… Read more

Carry on as if nothing has changed. Let yourself be carried away. Carry yourself like a dancer. If I carry equal weights in my left and right hands, I can walk much further. People think I carry my computer everywhere. I carried my babies close to my heart. If I lived in America I’d be… Read more

At the river park there are geese and ducks and parrots, all talking their morning talk, and an owl with a round white face. Its exquisite flecked and patterned wings are a spread fringe of white and brown. Quietly it lies on the grass, its modest beak closed, with a tall tree above it, a… Read more

the howl of the storm drowns out my tinnitus   between two clouds a wet bird spreads its wings   The second haiku was first published in Creatrix Read more