Sunday, October 23, 2011

Under the Ngaio Tree

Waking, drifting between pain and unconsciousness
pushed by tides of medications and tugged
by the moons of disease
- yellow, gibbous, and hanging too close

Your phone call jerked me up
struggling on the hook of aware
and your hearty greeting
banished the shade of suffering
while sun through dull curtain
shaded my skin to healthy brown

We chatted & talked of work again
while the back of my mind turned again
spinning through ways to reach you
rummaging through purple painstars
and dusty brown clogged thoughts
dredging up black and empty ideas

When I settled back down and stgretched
eased my back & my conscience
and soohted my over screamed throat
with a pale flat glass of water
I played our conversation back
realised the limits again
of friendship and care
and sung to myself yuor parting words

they covered me with soft green shade of friendship
bleached the harsh brilliance of sales and genius

No comments:

Post a Comment