Category: Shay’s Word Garden
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25 March: for Shay’s Word Garden
Proud Crowns and Coronets The daffodils and tulipsgyre and dance in the garden.Spritely. Nimble as if ageless, swoop, swirl in March’s wind.They’re a gold-sugared colourof proud crowns and coronets. It’s not arty or experimentalor nouveau, this garden, sameblooms, spring yellows, bluebells, and bright globe-shaped tulipswith nebulous streaks like viralred galaxies straight from Hades. The genius…
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23 March: for Word Garden
BACK THEN WHEN The last cigarette I ever smokedwas outside a used car showroom.It was the hottest day of that particular summer, and thinking back, it should’ve beena reflective moment, reflectingback on that dizzying first breath. A sorry time, my late teen years, smoking below the 12th Street bridgewith two friends. And nowadays if I…
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12 March: Her Shadows
HER SHADOWS His mother leaned overto give him a kiss, her lipsthe colour of ruby jewellery.He ducked, luckily missed her red smear across his face.She had this marvellous way of leaving a room. Her intensesummer perfume hangingpregnant and pretty in the air.Fading like a photo. A shiver.And he remembers two menwearing tang-colour uniforms, they carried…
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