As a child, home to me was a static space Of red bricks and moss covered doors So tall that my button eyes struggled to see their tips; Of coconut trees romancing thunderstorms And my face cupped in little hands; Humming and writing and humming, Poetry and music – their love child; Home was my … More Home

The Last Wish

The cold bath in the morning triggered nothing; I did not shiver, I did not cry, Perhaps, I did not even blink. They walked me to the doorstep of the end, Where I would be silenced forever; Those were moments of mindfulness, as I walked; I could feel the icy floor pierce the soles of … More The Last Wish