Author: ebbtide

I go out

I go out, and come back - to the low voices of everyday concrete saying stay, voices that are each time fainter I go out, and come back - in sun, in mist, in rain - and each time the tether is less, and closer … Continue reading I go out


the hummingbird

how the hummingbird knew I would deliver him is unclear and somewhat miraculous the flash at his throat reminded me of you - that gleam before the deeper hours of night descend how true that some longings can never be emancipated © Sarah Whiteley